#A) it often takes time (YEARS) and a lot of intentional hard work for people to find out what works for their brain | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

maidenvault · 4 months ago

Text

During my last rewatch of the prequels I was actually shocked by how much I've misremembered or decontextualized certain moments in my mind because of how they're often talked about in fandom as showing the Jedi as too arrogant, too bureaucratic, generally just burying their heads in the sand while everything goes bad etc. So I'm gonna try to address every individual scene that typically gets brought up to argue that this is an actual theme in Lucas's portrayal of the Order.

The Council doesn't take Qui-Gon's account of meeting a Sith seriously.

Mace and Ki Adi Mundi do both express doubt this guy could be a Sith. (Understandably! Historically they've never known Sith to be able to hide their existence, and for them to have survived totally in secret for a thousand years is a pretty wild thing for Qui-Gon to be so sure of.)

BUT Yoda admits that the dark side is hard to see, and Mace assures Qui-Gon they'll do everything to find out the identity of the attacker. Later he's ordered to go back to Naboo and try to draw out Maul to discover more. Qui-Gon accepts this and doesn't ask for backup. Why should he? He held his own against Maul before, and Maul's probably not gonna show himself again to face a ton of Jedi. They end up missing the chance to learn who trained Maul because of how things go down, but Qui-Gon's death isn't the result of the Council mishandling the situation.

At the funeral, Yoda says the presence of one Sith means there's another out there. They know they've got to be on guard now and will be, but they've got no more leads for now.

2. Qui-Gon's not here to free slaves.

There's this idea that slavery existing on Tatooine shows the Order is apparently too tied up doing shady things for self-interested politicians (footage not found) to help the people who really need it. But Padme's shocked to know the Skywalkers are slaves for a reason. The truth is there isn't a lot of slavery in the galaxy at this time because the Jedi have helped keep it that way for centuries only by working with the Republic. In TCW we see that Zygerrian slavers have a particular hatred of Jedi because they're literally The Anti Slavery People and did so much of the work to crack down on their trade. But Tatooine is controlled by the Hutts and they simply don't have the resources to start a war with them.

(And honestly, it's crazy how people talk like Qui-Gon's a monster for honestly and apologetically telling Anakin no, that's not why he's here. This is a child he's already indebted to and who has a hero-worshipping idea of Jedi, it would be fucked up for him not to be clear about how he can't help him and his mom.)

3. They doubt Dooku could be behind the assassination attempt.

This I understand shows the Jedi to be a little naive. But they knew Dooku as a good man, and at this point he and his followers are still putting on a show of wanting to secede for idealistic reasons (and a few of them, manipulated by Dooku, actually do have good intentions). Only later do the Jedi learn they're illegally building an army before they've even officially left the Republic and clearly have no interest in the peaceful resolution Padme's been advocating for. And they only find this out because they have Obi-Wan investigate the assassin and this very quickly leads him to Dooku.

4. "Arrogance, yes. A trait more and more common among Jedi. Even the older, more experienced ones."

In context, this line from Yoda is clearly not meant to be taken so seriously. Obi-Wan says he fears Anakin is too arrogant, and this is Yoda's light-hearted way of telling him not to be so hard on him. Part of training a Padawan is learning to trust them so they can grow, and Obi-Wan perhaps needs the reminder that he isn't done learning himself.

Of course Yoda saying this could be partly motivated by them having been caught off guard before by the existence of Darth Maul and the dark side clouding their awareness, as we're told repeatedly throughout the PT they know is a problem. But it's kind of contradictory to take this as confirmation that this is a serious fatal flaw of theirs. If someone acknowledges their own arrogance then they're aware of their ability to be wrong, which means they can't actually be that arrogant. If truly meant in a general sense and not just as a gentle reproof of Obi-Wan, it's a pretty self-deprecating comment coming from Yoda.

5. "If an item does not appear in our records, it does not exist."

Chief Librarian Jocasta Nu gives this haughty response to Obi-Wan looking for Kamino, a system that's not in the Jedi Archives. So being so overly confident in the infallible knowledge of the Jedi, he takes her word for it and totally drops this lead.

Except no, he goes to someone older and wiser to figure out what this actually means. And he and Yoda are forced to conclude that the unthinkable - a trusted person among them somehow had reason to erase information from the archive - must nonetheless be what happened. This is honestly an exception that proves the rule: Kamino, and we can assume only Kamino, is missing from the archive only because it was removed, which is so suspicious it just shows he must be on the right track to discovering something. Jocasta is kind of snooty about it but theirs obviously is supposed to be one of the most accurate and complete databases in the galaxy.

6. Obi-Wan doesn't believe what Dooku tells him about the Senate.

For one thing, in this conversation Dooku's lying about basically everything but this. And I can't ever stress enough that Palpatine is a threat unlike anything the Jedi have ever dealt with before, who's already taken control of so much before they even know they're fighting anything, so the idea that a Sith is controlling the Senate would be really hard for anyone to believe.

Still, we know Obi-Wan reports this to the Council anyway. But it's a vague statement and they still don't have any information to act on. Palpatine soon has them very busy putting out fires in the war, and naturally fighting the Separatists who are led by Sith seems the best way for them to get to the bottom of what exactly is going on with the dark side. And they do finally turn their attention to how power-hungry Palpatine is getting once the war is nearly over and they've got the bandwidth for it, and think about what they might have to do if he's the threat to their democracy they fear, but of course he's too many steps ahead of them all the time.

---

So basically, what we see the Jedi being so guilty of in these examples are thought crimes. When confronted with the crazy explanation that happens to be true, their instinctive reaction is "No, I don't think that's possible." And then they do their due diligence to uncover as much of the truth as they can anyway. And Yoda, the Grand Master of them all, is often the first to admit that their first assumptions could be wrong. But Palpatine wouldn't be a good villain if his moves were predictable and he couldn't get an advantage over the good guys - that's just how storytelling works sometimes and it's not that deep.

It honestly felt stupid typing so much of this out because it's 90% just describing what actually happens in these scenes. But I guess it's a lot to ask that people actually carefully watch the films they discuss. 😒

#jedi order #yoda #obi wan kenobi #darth maul #qui gon jinn #meta #star wars #my meta

1K notes · View notes

kayjaywrites · 8 months ago

Text

Like Bugs in a Rug: Chapter One

Summary: Azriel Shadowsinger, mysterious pretty boy extraordinaire himself, was head over heels in love with you for years. Everyone in the room could see it, except for you of course. A series of connected one-shots.

Chapter Word Count: 6,350 Chapter Music Inspo: End of It - Friday Pilots Club

Chapter Content Warnings: fluff, some cursing, one bed trope, awkward but wholesome communication, AFAB Reader, Reader (You), some details about Reader's appearance but overall vague, canon plot spoilers as this is canon compliant-ish, reader low key being thirsty for Azzie

Note: Hello! Welcome to my first fic in like 10 years! This idea came about when I was having a hard time falling back asleep. I sometimes draft fanfiction when i'm trying to sleep. I don't often remember the plots come morning, but the memory of this one remained intact enough for me to jot down. I’m thinking this update is gonna be the longest chapter because it's both prologue and the first chapter, but I have terrible self control with word count limits. So I guess we’ll see what the next chapters bring, but they may be shorter!

Enjoy me 2am fugue state musings, there are likely typos~

XxXx

Prologue

It was all worth it. The decades of patience and silent suffering. The centuries of loneliness paying off just as you lost hope of ever leaving The Court of Nightmares. You and your father, Kier, expected a typical visit from the Inner Circle. The High Lord would threaten your father to keep him in line, you’d go unnoticed in the back of the throne room monitoring the interaction. Just like every other time they visited.

Except, the High Lord and his Inner Circle asked about you like you were the reason behind their visit. You had clocked the visit as odd as soon as only Rhysand, Feyre, and Mor arrived. The absence of both The General & Shadowsinger at the same time a rarity. Despite being related to Rhysand and Mor, you didn’t think they knew your name, so when they asked Kier about you, by name, your heart damn near fell out of your ass.

They wanted you to leave Hewn City to work with them. A Courtier of the Night Court, working alongside Nesta, Lady Death herself, of all people. They wanted you to start immediately now that the war with Hybern was over. Relations between Courts were strained, and upon learning of your talent, the High Lord deemed it a waste for you to be hidden away down here. He and the Inner Circle believed you did not belong in The Court of Nightmares. To anyone else, having the High Lord speak so highly of your child would have been an honor.

It was the most furious you’d ever seen Kier. Which was saying something. His emotions grew volatile in a blink of an eye, outraged by the absolute gall of the High Lord. How dare he come to his city and tell him that you weren’t meeting your full potential down here? At some point Kier stood up, snarling at Rhysand and the others like a wild animal. Kier, so lost in his anger, let his mental shields falter. Just for a second, but it was more than enough time for your powers to draw his wayward thoughts to you, like a magnet, his unspoken intentions seeped into your own mind. You were always terrible at blocking him out when he got like that.

Power. Kier's thoughts whispered to you. A spy for him in the Inner Circle.

It disgusted you how predictable your father was, his intentions were always about how he could best use you for his own gain. It was the driving force behind your excessive training habits, desperate to protect yourself from the toxicity of his intentions. The more you failed at keeping him out, the more you hated him, and by default hated yourself.

Rhysand was right, you were wasted down here, and it wasn’t that your father didn’t see that, he didn’t care. He wasn’t furious with the High Lord for taking another daughter away from him, he was mad about losing a tool.

Well, your father could rot down here alone for all you cared.

You felt a lot of things in that moment. Intimidated by the prospect of working with Nesta, unsure of Mor’s morals and the rumors surrounding her, apprehensive of Rhysand and Feyre’s power, and not to mention all the unknown dynamics between the rest of the Inner Circle. But, despite all that uncertainty, you did not feel nervous about leaving Hewn City with them.

The first task Kier ever appointed you was to report on Rhysand and his Inner Circle’s intentions every time they visited. Either they all had flawless control over their mental shields, or their icy behavior was an act from the beginning. You never dared to share your suspicions with Kier, your father only wanted ammo for his hate, and he never took kindly to evidence that didn’t support his biases against High Lord Rhysand.

It felt a little too much like blind faith and a hunch for you to be 100% comfortable with the decision, but you decided to put your trust in these strangers anyway.

You would take the job.

Not to be a spy for Kier.

Not out of some duty to your High Lord or older sister.

It was time to live your life for you. Consequences be damned.

But, the focus of this story was not about moving to Velaris with Mor and getting to know the Inner Circle. It wasn’t about how much you rock as a diplomat for the Night Court. It wasn’t about how good it felt the first time sunlight touched your skin upon leaving the underground city. It wasn’t even about how you and Nesta became best friends. However good those stories may be.

However, this story is about Azriel Shadowsinger, and how the mysterious pretty boy extraordinaire himself, fell head over heels for you without you ever picking up on it. Yeah, that’s right, the girl who struggled to control her talent for hearing unspoken intentions never puzzled the pieces together. For literal years everyone else in the godforsaken room could tell the Spymaster was in love with you, except for you.

...one year and a couple months later....

It all started with an argument with Rhysand a few assignments into your career as the Night Court Courtier. You felt like you could handle traveling between Courts without needing an escort, especially if you’d be meeting up with Nesta at the destination anyway. Rhysand did not agree, basically threatening to ground you if you didn’t allow someone to accompany you.

That was how Azriel had become your full-time travel partner. Rhysand appointed Azriel as an additional escort in case Nesta was pulled away.

You’d take this to your grave before ever admitting it, but Rhysand wasn’t wrong to be worried. There had been a good number of times where just that had happened. Nesta would be working the other side of the room, and having Azriel lingering nearby eased your nerves. Prythian was a vast Realm, and Rhys had been right in worrying about your adjustment.

It didn’t take too long for you to adapt once you had visited all the different Courts a few times. Yet, Azriel continued to go out of his way to accompany you to events. The first obvious sign of his affections for you came a little over a year into your career.

The event was in a small Day Court town on the border of the Night Court, just under a day’s travel from Velaris on foot. Home to one of the libraries hit hardest by Amarantha’s looting, the entire town was celebrating the return of a sizable chunk of the stolen volumes. The gala was advertised to be a quaint dinner and cocktail hour. You suspected that scholars and book enthusiasts would be the bulk of those present. Although interested in going, Rhysand had High Lord duties to attend to that involved Nesta and the other Archeron sisters in the Summer Court. With a promise to fill everyone in on anything of interest, you packed a small overnight bag and waited for Mor to arrive home. You never developed the ability to winnow, so you needed someone to bring you.

Fussing with your hair in one of the numerous mirrors decorating Mor’s walls, you couldn’t help but smile at your reflection. Your time in Velaris, just over two years, had already begun to sooth a deep sadness you hadn’t realized had settled under your skin. It was obvious in the gentle way you gazed at your reflection, the healthy flush of your cheeks, and the warmth of your thoughts. Velaris looked good on you, and as you smoothed a hand down the shimmery sapphire blue fabric of the dress that clung to your curves, you thought the new formalwear looked good on you too.

Giddiness bubbled up in you at the idea of modeling the new dress for Mor. The excitement felt foreign still, after spending centuries believing Mor didn’t care to know her own little sister. You never thought you’d ever get the chance to gush over dresses with her. Kier hated everything Mor represented, and was cruel to her in ways that made you feel lucky in a perverse way. Your father may have manipulated and alienated you, filling your head with lies about your older sister, but it was never public. Kier made sure everyone in the Court of Nightmares knew that Mor was a useless whore and a traitor.

When Mor became a core member of the Inner Circle, and Rhysand put her in charge of Hewn City, you would wait for her to acknowledge you during her visits. Decades turned into a century, but the same hope would always rise up when Mor was due for a visit, only to be crushed when she ignored you. She never paid you a second of her time, just a fleeting look in passing as if you were another spectator. Knowing that she wasn’t ignoring you out of ill intent stung more, because you couldn’t bring yourself to hate her.

Kier may be your father, but that didn’t mean you had to be a fan of his intentions. You never believe the rumors he spread about Mor.

And then, the big reveal came. It turned out that to Mor, you were just another spectator. Mor didn’t know she had a younger sister at all. Keir hid you so well that no one realized you were related to him. A detail that made you feel so small when it came to light. You were just the shy woman in the background, taught to be pleasant when spoken to, a pretty little wallflower the rest of the time.

Later, when you asked about who first realized your identity, you got mixed accounts from the Inner Circle. Rhysand insisted that it was he who put the pieces together first. Stating that it came to him suddenly after Azriel submitted a report from a surveillance mission detailing an overheard conversation between you and Kier about your talents. Rhysand claimed that your powers reminded him of a variation of Mor’s. The rest of the Inner Circle credited Feyre for noting the resemblance between you, Kier, and The Morrigan the first time she noticed you loitering at the back of a council meeting.

When the truth was confirmed, and you agreed to go with them, Mor wept. She vowed to never leave you alone in The Court of Nightmares ever again, even for a second. That promise was your first experience with making a deal in the Night Court. Your clear surprise at the intricate tattoo that branded itself over the center of your sternum clued Mor, Rhysand, and Feyre in on how out of touch you were with common lore from your own Court. Mor wasted no time in winnowing you out of there after that. The both of you had heard enough of Keir’s nasty sneers and low-blow comments to last a lifetime.

Now, Mor’s cozy little home was also your cozy little home, if not a bit tight for two people. If someone asked you a decade ago if you thought you’d ever have a relationship with Mor you would advise them to seek out a healer.

And yet there you were, vibrating with things to tell her, anticipating her arrival with an almost goofy grin when…Azriel of all people winnowed into the living room.

Perplexed, but not totally disappointed, “Oh!” you said, clearly taken aback. “I was expecting Mor.”

Azriel huffed a low chuckle, dimples bracketing his amused half-smile. “Sorry to disappoint.”

You looked him over, dark circles under his eyes, droopy eyelids, posture leaning forward in a slight slouch. “Az, didn’t you just return from a long mission? Why aren’t you resting?”

“Wanted to escort you to the Day Court Library Gala, of course.”

The tenderness in his voice had warmth bubbling up from your chest. “That is very kind,” you started, making sure to meet his gaze so he knew you meant it, “but you look so tired, Az. I’ve visited the Day Court a bunch of times now and only need someone to winnow me there. As much as I enjoy having you accompany me to these things, I don’t want you to stretch yourself thin on my account. I’ve got this.”

“I know you’ve got this,” came his immediate reply, “as you’ve pointed out I’ve been gone for a few weeks. What if I offered to escort you because I missed you, hm?”

Despite yourself you felt a flush of heat in your cheeks at his teasing. You refused to use your powers on anyone in the inner circle, unwilling to violate their privacy without explicit consent. But you didn’t need your powers to read Azriel’s sincerity. It made it hard to meet his gaze, you turned back to running your fingers through your hair in the mirror, taking a moment to compose yourself. “Well alright then, I don’t think I can do anything more to tame my hair, we should be off then.”

You felt Azriel at your back, a gloved hand coming up to gently grasp your elbow, guiding your arm down as his hand trailed down the bare skin of your forearm to hold yours, turning you to face him. “Stop fussing, you look stunning, this dress is new, right? I think the color suits you.”

You smiled. “Thank you, I suppose you would like this color, now that I’m thinking about it,” with your free hand you held up the skirt of the floor length dress to the siphon on his wrist, marveling at the color match, “it looks like I did it on purpose.”

He hummed in acknowledgement as he pulled you closer into an almost embrace. “We should go now. Wouldn’t want to miss the opening speeches.”

You suppressed a shudder. Definitely from the way his breath tickled your ear, and not from the way his voice sounded as he tucked you into his chest. “You hate opening speeches.” You pointed out, remembering all the times he complained about how boring they were.

“I do, but you like them.” You’d never said as much aloud, but you did enjoy listening to people talk about things they were passionate about, and opening speeches tended to be just that. Of course the Spymaster had noticed.

If Azriel saw your smile before you hid your face against his leather-clad pec he didn’t let on. You pulled your hands free and looped your arms around his middle, clasping your fingers together under the base of his wings.

“I’m ready then, thank you for coming with me.” Your voice was muffled, unwilling to tilt your head up to talk to him in case your maddening blush was there. It didn’t seem to matter how many times you winnowed with Az, your whole face would go cherry red. Something Cassian never failed to poke fun at whenever he witnessed it.

Azriel wrapped his arms tightly around you, your body now flush to his. You focused on the sound of his wings rustling as he tucked them in closer. Anything to distract from the way your pulse spiked when you felt his lips brush against the crown of your head, his hold on you gentle, yet firm and protective as darkness folded around the both of you.

XxXx

Neither you nor Azriel realized the issue with your room reservation until much too late. Upon arrival in The Day Court the both of you hurried to the event. The gala wrapped up around midnight, and like most of the other guests staying in town, you and Azriel retired back to the nearby Inn. With your strappy heels in hand and a pleasant buzz from the alcohol, you felt positively bubbly. Paused in front of your room, you let Azriel rummage through the small black purse at your side for the key. After almost leading them into the wrong room, Azriel took it upon himself to find the correct room and unlock the door.

Minutes later you were still trying to suppress a smile at how Azriel reacted with such mortification when he realized you’d led them to the wrong room. The mental image of the great Shadowsinger so frantic in his efforts to stop you from further jostling the doorknob, had you letting out a laugh before you could stop it.

“It’s not funny.” He grumbled as he swung the wooden door to your room open, leading you inside. You were on the verge of poking fun at him some more when you caught a glimpse of the interior layout. Right, you had RSVP’d expecting to attend the gala alone. The realization sobered you up real fast.

The room was small, burgundy curtains concealing a sizable window, antique desk with tourist flyers stacked in a neat pile on top. A queen sized, four post bed situated in the middle of the room.

“I’ll take the floor—” Azriel started saying.

But you interrupted him. “—you should have the bed.”

“Absolutely not, what kind of gentleman would I be if I let a lady sleep on the floor while I hogged the whole bed.” He nodded, as if the conversation was over, and you had to fight the urge to roll your eyes at him.

“There’s not even enough space on the floor for you to stretch out Az. The room is basically only bed. It’s fine, I can use my extra clothes—”

You inhaled sharply, tensing at the thought of your overnight bag, left forgotten back at Mor's apartment. Your eyes darted to Azriel, meeting his gaze out of the corner of your eye, and you knew you didn’t need to say anything about it as he scoffed under his breath.

“You forgot your bag.” He observed.

Sighing, you ran a hand through your hair, your tight dress feeling like it was constricting around your chest as you contemplated sleeping in it. “I did indeed forget my bag.”

“We could just go back, we don’t have to stay here for the night.” Azriel pointed out, but the thought of cutting the trip short caused a ripple of disappointment to drop in your stomach.

“Or,” he continued with a hint of amusement, “I have an undershirt beneath my leathers. I changed before I met you at Mor’s, so it’s relatively clean. I was going to sleep in it tonight, but I would sacrifice my shirt for you if it meant you’d stop frowning like that.”

If you thought you were anxious before, Azriel’s suggestion sent your anxiety through the roof. You had always found Azriel attractive, even when you were still living in Hewn City. Who wouldn’t? That attraction grew into a bit of a crush when you first arrived in Velaris. He treated you with such care as you adjusted to living above ground, quiet, patient, and thoughtful.

Once it was apparent that you would be working closely with him you shut that shit down. You and him had spent a lot of time traveling together the last few years, always with separate sleeping arrangements, and never sharing clothing. You went out of your way to respect his privacy, give him space, all in hopes of being someone he one day could trust, like how you trusted him.

You could handle one night, sharing a bed, borrowing his shirt. That wouldn’t totally backfire on you in any way, right? Nodding to yourself once, you tried for an air of confidence as you talked around the nerves that have bloomed in your chest.

“Okay,” you agreed, “but if I change into your shirt you definitely can’t take the floor. I won’t let you sleep shirtless on the ground while I’m all tucked in and cozy in bed. I’ll only take up a sliver of it by myself anyway.”

He opened his mouth to object, his intentions written in the way his brow furrowed at you. But you barreled on anyway, “So, we share the bed tonight. Are you comfortable with that?”

His mouth snapped shut, eyes studying you for a tense moment as if you may be tricking him. You clasped your hands together in front of you, the longer you waited for him to respond the clammier your palms felt. Each second felt like an eternity and in no time at all you found yourself scrambling for a way to play off your idea as a joke.

Of course he wouldn’t want to share a bed with you. What in the world had you been thinking?

Maybe you could blame it on that deliciously fizzy drink you downed before leaving the gala, say you weren’t in your right mind. Pretend to not remember in the morning, as if this wasn’t going to be a moment you cringe about decades later. Would you be able to just laugh it off? Would Azriel be chill enough to let you live this down? You were probably so screwed.

He was still a little tense, but just before your panic truly took root Azriel began to nod his head like he...agreed with you?

“Yes, I think that is the most logical solution. The bed can definitely fit two.” Azriel finally said, and you tried to keep yourself from gaping at his response. But your surprise must have been all over your face because he went on to say, “I didn’t suggest it myself because I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Wiping your hands down the front of your dress did little to help with the sweat. The pit that had been taking form in your stomach churned, your dread morphing into jittery nerves.

Then, as if you weren’t having a nervous breakdown right in front of him, the handsome lunatic started striping his leathers off. Dept hands tossing his gloves to the desk, he unclasped the chest pieces of his leathers, they fell to the floor with a thud. Then, the promised black undershirt was up over his head, and you were drinking in all his tattoos and corded muscles like you were a tactless teenager instead of a 300+ year old female.

A flash of movement from him, and you flinched when his shirt hit you square in the face. It was so big it draped over your head. You made a disgruntled noise, ignoring how delicious the shirt smelled as you removed it from your face, “Hey—!”

“If you’re done gawking at me like you’ve never seen a shirtless male, you can get ready for bed first.” He headed further into the room, collecting his chest piece off the floor and approaching the desk to place it with his gloves. He turned to face you, his butt propped against the desk as he gestured to the door his wingspan had been blocking from view. He crossed his arms over his bare chest, flexing his biceps, and you almost swooned at the sight. He knew exactly what he was doing.

Your fist tightened around the shirt, fighting the urge to toss it back at him out of spite. Embarrassment felt like hot iron under your skin, so instead you snapped your attention to the door he had pointed out–the bathroom. You knew you’d averted your gaze much too fast to seem unaffected by him. He chuckled, and you glowered at him as his head tilted to the side, watching you with a bemused expression. He looked about ready to comment further, but you waved him off with faux-annoyance and an exaggerated roll of your eyes. Clutching his shirt close to your chest, you escaped into the bathroom.

Subtle.

Pressing your back to the door, it closed under your weight. You paused there for a moment to focus on your breathing, your frazzled mind going a mile a minute. This was all so far out of your comfort zone, it wasn’t even funny. You never had to deal with handsome males in The Court of Nightmares, Kier didn’t let you socialize long enough for it to even be on your radar. Dating hadn’t quite made your list of top priorities upon arriving in Velaris either.

What little experience you did have was with a male named Allistair. You’d met him at Rita’s within your first year above ground. It was a fling of sorts that lasted a few months before you decided casual dating wasn’t for you. He was a perfectly adequate lover. At least you think he was. He was also your only lover. A nice enough companion as you acclimated to your new life. The times you had been intimate with that male had left you feeling…bereft. Seeing Allistair shirtless had been nothing like seeing Azriel shirtless.

And Azriel calling you out for ogling him so blatantly? Mother have mercy.

So now you were just expected to fall asleep next to him wearing his shirt after that? The situation almost made you want to laugh at the absurdity of it all. The last thing you wanted was to draw his suspicion by loitering against the door for too much longer, so you moved to the sink. Maybe splashing lukewarm water on your face would reveal that this had all been a weird ass nightmare.

Cupping water into your face a couple more times, you took in the smeared makeup dripping down your face in the mirror. Definitely not a dream.

Azriel was going to think you were in love with him for fucksake.

Snatching the nearby hand towel from the rack on the wall you soaked it, and got to work on scrubbing your face clean. You had to have a little more faith in Azriel. He wouldn’t let a single weird moment ruin over a year of amicable teamwork. But your personal relationship with him felt fragile to you at best. You can't let some tattoos and abs mess up what you considered to be the most solid friendship you’d made among the Inner Circle.

So what if he was hot as hell? You could co-exist with attractive people, it was legit a part of your job. You could salvage the situation, just change out of the dress you accidentally matched to the colors of his siphons, put his shirt on that smelled so strongly of him it gave you a headrush, and face him like you hadn't just been drooling over his naked chest.

You know, simple.

The hem of his t-shirt landed just above your knees, and the comfort you found in it was criminal. The black fabric was very soft and so baggy that you worried the wing slits in the back would shift forward in your sleep. It could reveal a little more than what you’d considered 'tasteful side boob'.

Resisting the urge to fuss in the mirror (because it wasn't like you were trying to look cute for anyone, right?), you exited the bathroom clean faced and a bit more settled than when you had entered.

Your bravado, however, was short lived. Azriel faced away from you in only his underwear, the rest of his leathers added to the pile on the desk. He was organizing his various knives on the bedside table closest to the main door.

He looked over his shoulder at you. Totally not catching you checking out his butt in the tight underpants. Cauldron boil you. Would it be weird if you marched yourself back into the bathroom to try the whole “not affected by sexy, almost nude Illyrian warrior” thing again?

Azriel inhaled sharply, and you snuck a glance at him. His attention was back on his knives, but there was a tension to him, almost like he was brooding. There might have been a light blush over his cheeks, but you felt weird analyzing him anymore than you already had out of habit. You clocked the change in his body language for what it was the instant he saw you in his shirt. Clenched jaw, tense shoulders, spine ramrod straight, wide eyed before averting his gaze, elevated heart rate–classic signs of attraction. Reactions he clearly didn’t want you to notice.

"I'm taking this side." He informed almost absently, patting the mattress. Leaving you with the window side.

You wandered to the desk to avoid observing him further, wishing that you could turn off the part of you that always seemed to be prying for more information. And then you felt it, his thoughts getting louder, his emotions growing wilder, reaching out to you. You slammed your mental shields up hard, a gross feeling taking root when it was too late.

Protect. Azriel’s intentions conveyed to you. Protect. Comfort. Provide. Here you were invading his private thoughts without his knowledge, while he was concerned with your wellbeing. What was the point of all that effort Rhysand put into teaching you how to better control your mental shields? It never worked when you needed it most. The failure stung, and you had to busy yourself with folding your dress in a neat square so you had something to keep your hands from shaking.

It was quiet for too long, and you struggled with recalling what he had said to you before you’d lost control. Something about the bed. "Sounds good to me." You decide on saying, placing your dress next to his leathers.

Azriel didn’t seem to find your reply out of the ordinary. Small mercies.

"I'll be out in a few minutes, then." His voice was rougher than before, and it sent chills down your spine. As soon as you heard the bathroom door click shut you scurried into bed. You couldn’t get under the covers fast enough, pulling the blankets up to your neck with a hefty sigh of relief.

It felt awesome to be laying down after such a long evening on your feet. Too bad you couldn’t enjoy it more, instead drowning under waves of shame. Maybe you’d never get a full handle on your powers. Maybe the Mother was teaching you a lesson in this life? You couldn’t fathom what the moral could be. You wanted more than anything to be able to mind your business.

You wished you could turn your brain off. Alas, even your guilt couldn’t stop you from reflecting and organizing what you’d just observed. Not only had you heard his intentions, but you also felt them. Unlike the sweet warmth of his thoughts, his gaze had felt like desire and bad decisions.

He didn’t seem like he was actively seeking to bed you. You reasoned that you were also an available female wearing nothing but his shirt and a pair of panties. You could only imagine how all of that must have chafed against his Illyrian instincts. Rhysand had once mentioned that Illyrians were possessive and protective at best, controlling and jealous at their worst.

Surely those possessive instincts were what you were picking up on, then. You were covered in his scent after all. That was the only logical explanation for his reaction, his instincts were telling him to protect you because you were vulnerable and wearing his clothing. Even if it didn’t quite sound right to you, it was the only explanation you were willing to entertain. You were barely friends, there was no way Azriel wanted to court you. The thought sent a fleeting pang of disappointment through you that you refused to examine.

Whatever. There wasn’t anything you could do to make the situation less messy right now. You were exhausted, and stewing on scenarios that would never amount to anything real was unlike you.

Snuggling further into the sheets, you decided it was best to just pretend you hadn’t noticed shit. The damage was done, Azriel wasn’t dumb, he at least knew he had flustered you. You weren’t going to draw any more attention to that tonight. Or tomorrow. Or ever. Everything about this night was a fluke.

Azriel returned from the bathroom, and you kept your focus on fluffing your pillows. Sitting up you tossed an extra pillow onto the floor, and you could feel as soon as his eyes landed on you that some of his…instincts…were still acting up. You pulled the comforter back up to your neck as he got into bed next to you. Turning on your side to face him you were determined to be normal. No more awkward gawking allowed tonight.

He stretched his arms up above his head, his joints popping a million times as he groaned in relief. You couldn't help chuckling at him, the fearsome Shadowsinger of the Night Court, doing something so mundane.

Scooting further onto the bed, Azriel rolled over to meet your gaze, his wings tucked close to his back as he settled. Most of his wingspan spilled over the side of the bed anyway. He surveyed you, eyes lingering along your tired but genuine smile, and you saw the stern tenseness slowly leave his body. "You sure you're comfortable with this?" He asked.

Your smile turned a tad warmer. This male was just so kind, so different from what you knew in Hewn City. "I am, I trust you Azriel." It was the truth. You didn't have friends growing up, and although you may have a long way to go before Azriel truly called you his friend, you considered him a dear (sexy) friend.

Your words seem to settle something in him, and you could have sworn you saw something almost affectionate flash across his face. You blink, and it's gone, but the fuzzy feeling it left in your chest remained.

Like he sensed your mushy thoughts, he ruined the moment. "So I have to ask you something, it’s serious.”

Your brows raised in bemused interest, the scenario with him wishing to court you snapping to the forefront of your mind again. He’d always been very attentive to you, but in a worried protective way. You’d never picked up on any romantic intentions from him before, and he’s not the type to make a decision like that on a whim. The chance was small, but you couldn’t 100% rule out him wanting to ask you out. Could you say no to him? Would you even want to say no? You’d never considered this as an option before!

He held your gaze, as if for dramatic effect and then with the seriousness of a top notch spymaster he asked you, “You have seen a shirtless male before...right?"

Maybe it was a mistake to consider this male kind, he was a menace all along.

You had never rolled your eyes so hard at someone. Unbelievable.

Turning away from him with enough force to toss your hair in his face, you are rewarded with the sound of his indignant grunt.

"Can you turn the light off please?" You snap, unable to rein in your annoyance. Unsettled by how it tasted almost like rejection.

"You didn't answer my question." He goaded, and you fell right for it.

"Yeah, because it's a silly question." You fire back.

He hummed at your response, "Doesn't seem like you think it's a silly question."

You would rather swallow your own tongue than admit to Azriel that you’d seen shirtless males, but he had been the first you’d enjoyed seeing shirtless.

Done with the line of questioning, you blindly flung your arm back, swatting at him. He startled at the contact, and he exhaled a scoff when you didn't stop flopping your arm at him after the first blow.

He caught your wrist, stilling your flailing. "Fine, fine, I'll drop it," He let go of your wrist, “for now.”

You shifted to burrow further into your pillows, totally not dwelling on how his big hand wrapped around your wrist made you feel dainty. The texture of his scars hadn’t made your heart skip a beat either. Nope. Not at all.

"Could you shut the light off please." You asked again with more venom than you intended. It bothered you how easy this male could get under your skin. He wasn’t even trying.

You felt his weight shifting, the bed frame squeaking a bit as he moved. "Anything for you, Princess." He shuffled a little more, and then the light went off, casting the both of you in darkness.

The nickname made you grimace into your pillow. No one had ever called you that before, and you really didn’t want it to catch on.

You felt him return to the position on his side facing you. Some moments passed in loud silence, and although you were the one that let the conversation drop, the residual tension in the room was killing you. There was no way you would be able to fall asleep, and you would bet that Azriel was stewing in the tension too.

"Az?" You whispered. His response was quick like he’d been waiting on edge for you to speak, "Yes?"

"Goodnight." And you found yourself meaning it. You hoped he got some sleep tonight despite the turmoil he had so effortlessly sowed in your stomach with his teasing. The prick.

You could practically hear the mischief in his voice. "Sleep well, princess."

Ugh. Your stomach coiled, but not in an entirely unpleasant way. Very dangerous. It was an inappropriate reaction, and you wrote it off as stress. However as hard as you wished to forget it, you wouldn’t be forgetting how Azriel had made you feel that night anytime soon.

Even your racing thoughts couldn’t stop sleep from finding you, putting you out of your misery.

And if you woke up to the sounds of song birds that morning, your face pressed against Azriel's neck, your body sprawled atop him while he slept on his back, then that was your business. No one would know if you relished being in his arms a few minutes longer than necessary. You wouldn’t confirm nor deny if one of his hands had looped through a wing hole of his borrowed shirt, his fingers resting just under your breast.

And so what if it had been the best sleep you'd gotten since leaving Hewn City. And if Azriel seemed more well rested than usual on your return to the Night Court, you certainly didn't notice that either.

XxXx

Next Chapter

#azriel x reader #acotar #azriel x you #friends to lovers #slow burn #one bed trope #one shot #one shot series #azriel #my writing #kayjaywrites #like bugs in a rug

633 notes · View notes

tenpintsof-sundrop · 11 months ago

Text

I really really hate to be that person - especially because I know a lot of people are under the impression that fanfic authors are greedy and we should be grateful for any comments we get, even if those comments are full of unauthorized concrit, even if they're kind of rude, even if they're weirdly self-shaming (sometimes insinuating that people should feel bad over reading the dark or smutty content in the fics or that we should feel bad for writing it in the first place even though you're also reading it??).

But like, lately, I have been getting so many comments along the lines of "this fic should be longer!!" "I wish this was a series!!" "please turn this into a series!" "I would read endless sequels of this!!!" - today someone literally commented on one of my fics saying that it was a war crime that the fic was 30k instead of being 'a whole series'. And I totally understand the mindset that if something is good, you want more of it. If you enjoy something, you want more of it. But these comments are definitely not as flattering as people think they are.

When reading those comments - it doesn't always come off as a compliment. Most of my fics range from 5k to 30k on average, and they are usually oneshots or oneshots that I have split into multiple parts in order to be more readable - most of my longer, ongoing series are abandoned because I didn't have the steam to maintain them. (Most people don't know at all how hard it is to write a good, coherent, well-plotted 100k fic and actually keep up with it.) After I post the fic I have written later this week, I will have written over 400k this year alone, with my entire AO3 having over one million words split between 79 different fics.

So often, having people look at my fics and having their only comment be to 'write more' - feels like an insult. Because I do write more. I have written more. I write consistently. (It just sucks that people have almost nothing to say about what I have already written.)

Having people look at my fics - usually very long fics - and go "hey, this would be better if it was longer!!" or "hey, that was good, but the only productive thing I have to say about it is: make it longer" - it always feels very discouraging.

It doesn't make me want to rush to write more of that fic. In fact, most of the time, I actively avoid working on sequels to fics where the only comments are 'more please' because I know the only thing people will say about the sequel is 'when are you gonna make more?' - and oftentimes, I don't intend to make more.

I have said this in another post, but the ending to my fics are always intentional. I don't write fics with the mindset of turning them into a 100 part series. I write fics with the mindset of making them like a film or a short TV series - telling a capsule of a story with a very intentional beginning, middle, and end. And if I write a sequel, it's because I feel there is more to be told - but I will also cap off that sequel with a very intentional ending.

(Also, don't get me started on the complex of - if fics don't have the classic 'happy ending' people feel like every single thread needs to be resolved until it gets to a more classic happy ending, when I love writing intentional melancholic and thoughtful endings.)

Also - in general, I feel like people don't understand how much work goes into a fic. It might take you about 2 hours to read a fic that's 30k (and a lot of people who are avid readers probably read faster than that, reading it in an hour or less) - but concepting that fic, writing that fic, and meticulously editing that fic so that it can be readable and pleasant for people takes upwards of 20 hours of work. I would say realistically, upwards of 30 hours. And those are just working hours - hours sitting at the computer actively working. That doesn't include the time spent in between workshopping the ideas in my head while I am doing other mundane tasks in life.

It's very, very easy to consume a 30k oneshot in one sitting and then hold out your plate and go "more please!!" without putting any thought into how much work went into the original fic.

All of this just to say - please think about these things next time you are commenting on a fic (or even closing a fic without commenting at all), or doing something stupid like generating a fic with AI - which steals from everyday hard working fanfic writers. Fanfiction is hard work - it's a labour of love, and it shouldn't be about blind consumerism where you finish one and then rapidly start looking for the next one. You should appreciate each one like a good, hand pulled taffy instead of gobbling them all down like cheap candy mass made by factory machines.

Yeah - I think that's it.

-your local over worked (but still passionate) fanfic writer

#uuugh #either nobody will see this or everyone will and they will complain about it #sundrop speaks #dick grayson x reader #jason todd x reader #ellie williams x reader #spencer reid x reader #abby anderson x reader #mike schmidt x reader #fanfiction #fandom #vanessa shelly x reader #gar logan x reader

368 notes · View notes

forthevillains · 9 months ago

Note

Okokok this is gonna sound weird, BUT, pretty please hear me out 😘

So imagine being Albert Wesker's "childhood friend" Like when he was a teen he'd sneak out to spend time with you every so often if he had a bit of free time in his busy af schedule. Idk what to do about this idea from there. I just think it's kinda fun. Maybe he's secretly a yandere lol. No idea.

That’s such a good idea!

The fact that Wesker would have someone to talk to without Spencer knowing at all. Like he’d be so excited to actually have a friend he’d risk his everything only to get to see you. As smart as he is, it wouldn’t be that difficult for him to create a plan, but making it work with all the people around him would be much worse.

Alex surely caught him at least once, questioning his intentions, curious on why in the hell would her brother go out during such a time while they have so much to do. Wesker was tense the whole time they were talking, he felt stupid, it all looked and sounded much better in his head, but when he said "I found a friend.” - he cringed at himself. No matter this reaction though, as much as Alex used to tease the hell out of him and even make fun of him, she was still his sister and he was closest to the family she’s lost years ago. Something about Albert being able to make connections with people after all that’s been done to him is still on her mind and so she lets him go, having his back whenever Spencer asked of his whereabouts.

Wesker would sneak out more and more often, the more he got to know you, the more he wanted to be with you. It became something he couldn’t live without, seeing you smile at him every now and then, interested in him. If you asked about his parents he would go quiet, so you made a mental note of not asking about his personal life again. You became the talker and did he love listening to you. He got to know the smallest of things, everything about your own family… He made sure to remember every detail about you, especially the type of places you liked so that he could take you there when you guys would get older. It was the first time for him having a friend like this so he cared for you like for no other.

I can imagine Wesker getting really fixated though, after some time, he wouldn’t know whether its love or obsession he’s feeling, but deep in his guts he’s aware that it’s no good, not for him, not for you. He’s destined for big things, he has so many lives on his hands. He’s nothing like any other teenager, he has an important duty (and trust that sometimes he hates it very much). Though you always make him feel like a normal teenager, like a normal human being… And that’s special to him, by treating him like a decent human - you’re making him feel special.

And even when he loved to spend his time with you, everything good in his life apparently had to come to an end. You left, because your parents insisted on moving away and that was when you and Albert got separated. It hurt, both you and him, but in his case it was hard to move on. So hard he just couldn’t do it. He’d feel sad, always thinking of the times spent with you, away from all his problems and now it was all gone. While you were quick to find new friends, he became so lonely that not even William or Alex made him feel better.

You haven’t come back in years, in almost two decades. And Wesker was still thinking of you sometimes, even though he was somewhere completely else. He changed physically and mentally that’s for sure, now that he was captain of S.T.A.R.S. with even more responsibilities than before. He became cold, stern and hardworking man with clear goals in his mind. He didn’t include you in his plans anymore, even though he wondered where you were a lot, he wondered if you got married and had kids, he wondered if you thought about him the same way he thought about you. Obsession it was indeed.

One day however, you ran into him, on an accident. You didn’t see it coming as you were texting your co-worker of an important matter when you found yourself basically walking into his muscular form, immediately dropping your phone and if it wasn’t from him - you’d be lying on the ground right next to it.

"I’m sorry-“ you were ready to leave, but he stopped you before you could go any further. You were familiar, everything about you felt that way and when you looked up at him, all confused, he recognized those eyes. It was as if the time stopped for him, finally seeing the woman he liked when they were young, someone who overlooked all his flaws and made him smile almost each time they met.

"What is it?” You turned your head to the side, narrowing your eyes in curiosity and only then has he realized that he’s been staring at you through his shades and not saying anything.

"Y/N…” he only muttered your name, completely taken aback by the sound of your voice. He couldn’t believe that he was seeing you now. "It’s been so long.”

You don’t get what he means at first, but when he takes the sunglasses off to get a proper look at you. "Al-“ before you finished saying his name he pulled you in for a hug, wanting nothing more than to feel that you’re real. He only used to hug you when you initiated it, but now it was his turn, he felt as if it wasn’t real at all, that it was too good to be.

No matter the shock, you hugged him back after a while, wrapping your hands around him, taking a note of how much bigger he got over the years. He’s grown to be a handsome man to say the least.

"What are you doing here?” You asked when you pulled away, giving him a small smile.

"Going to work.” He made it up. He wasn’t going anywhere now that he’s learned that you’re around. He’s not gonna make the same mistake of letting you go now that he has more control over his own life. It might feel crazy to some, but he wanted to keep an eye on you, getting to know your habits, where you worked, where you lived and he wouldn’t wait for you to tell him yourself, it’s already been too much time without you. He wanted to make up for it now.

"Oh alright! Sorry, I must be wasting your time,” you apologized.

Wesker shook his head though. "Of course you’re not.” He was so gentle talking to you that if someone has heard him they probably wouldn’t even recognize him.

"Well in that case, we should catch up with each other. Are you free this evening? I’ve got so much to tell you!” There you were, the girl he used to know, immediately showing him your interest even though you haven’t seen him in decades. He couldn’t even say no to you, immediately cancelling whatever plans he’s had to make sure he’s indeed free in the evening. This time you’re not getting away from him, he’s going to make you his at some point. He’s been stupid enough to let you go once, he’s not gonna do it again;)

#albert wesker #albert wesker x reader #oneshot #resident evil #resident evil wesker #wesker x reader #wesker x you

182 notes · View notes

multifandomfanficss · 9 months ago

Text

It’s About Time

Ed Nygma/The Riddler x Reader

Prompt: Ed offers to help you with time management when you tell him you’re stressed at work. Your conversation is interrupted by an attack on the GCPD by the Maniax.

Warnings: Mentions of murder, cannibalism, r*pists, abuse, and general graphic violence. Gotham typical violence. Mental health struggles. Sensory issues and meltdowns common with autism. Panic. Near death experiences. Claustrophobia. References to being buried alive. Nightmares.

A/N: I’m rewatching Gotham and I didn’t realize the missed potential for hurt/comfort the first time I watched this show 7 years ago. My work load has been really heavy lately, but this show broke me out of my writers block and I made time for the writing bug. This takes place in the middle of Ed’s Riddler arc. He hasn’t fully become the Riddler yet, but he has already made his first kill. The reader has qualities of an autistic person, but is not explicitly said to be autistic. I accidentally code a lot of my characters to be autistic because I am, but this was more intentional to reflect Ed’s autistic coding. Feel free to read into it or not! You don’t have to be autistic to read and hopefully enjoy this! Crossposted on my AO3 adriansglasses.

“I’ve been so stressed lately.” You sigh. “It’s like I can’t get anything done that I actually need to get done.” You stand in the hallway of the precinct talking to your friend Ed. You were stressing about this case and Jim Gordon was making you go through hundreds of old files for him. You were never part of the real action, but the horrifying crime scene photos and evidence you had to pull through everyday was taking a toll on you. Gordon’s time crunches never helped either. You understood that lives were often on the line, but that didn’t make it any easier.

“What can some people never get enough of and others say is too much? What has the ability to fly when having fun or is stuck completely frozen when you need it to move?” He smiles. You stare at him blankly. You had not been getting enough sleep. You loved hearing his riddles, but you were never the best at giving him the answers. It was so hard for your mind to keep track of it all. “Do you give up?” He asks.

“My brain just isn’t braining right now.” You laugh. “What’s the answer?”

“Time.” He beams, happy with himself. “You should try to implement a better time management plan. You look tired all the time. It’s like you’re not even sleeping.”

“Thanks, Ed.” You give a dry laugh.

“You know what I mean.” You nod in an agreement with him. “You might be the only person who usually knows what I mean.” He says, fiddling with his fingers and the buttons on his coat.

He was right. Nobody quite seemed to get him, but nobody quite seemed to get you either. You had always felt this odd draw to him that you could never quite explain. Truthfully you think you have feelings for him, but you always bury them. He saw you as a friend and he really needed a friend. Besides he had been pinning over Kristen since before you even got to the precinct. You had mixed feelings towards her. On one hand you felt bad for her. She was always getting mixed up with shitty boyfriends who treated her poorly, but on the other hand she had a mean streak. You never liked how she treated Ed. It was like he wasn’t a person with feelings to her and that made you so angry.

“You’re right. I haven’t been sleeping.” You tell him.

“Why is that?” He asks.

“We live in Gotham. With the terrifying shit we see everyday, I don’t know how anyone sleeps.”

“Are you having nightmares again?” He asks, his face painted with concern.

“It’s fine. It’s just work stress. It’s just this case. I’m fine.” You smile. It wasn’t a real smile. Your smiles always came so naturally around Ed that he knew something was off. He was about to press when you heard gunshots coming from down the hall. Your body immediately froze like a dear in headlights in the middle of the hallway.

You’ve had violent people in the precinct before and it always made you nervous, but this was different. The Maniax were on the loose and you knew they were too unhinged to care about survivors or bargains. With Jerome Valeska at the helm, along side cannibals, rapists, and murderers you were terrified. They’d escaped from Arkham days ago and already managed to murder dozens of people. This was far too close to the action for you, as you heard Jerome’s laugh bellowing down the hall from the bullpen; a laugh you remembered from one of your early cases at the precinct. You had felt bad for him and tried to help him when his mother died. You will never forget the laugh he let out when Jim realized he wasn’t as innocent as you’d thought. It ran a chill through your spine.

Everything started moving too fast when you realized you were being pulled down the hall quickly. Once you realized you were holding hands, you tightly grasped Ed’s hand, not wanting to be separated from him. He brings you further down the hall into the ME’s lab.

“W-where are we going?” You stutter. It’s like your mouth can’t keep up with your racing mind.

“Do you trust me?” He looks at you trying to stay calm.

“Ed, what are you doing?” You’re panicking. He can tell. It’s not hard to tell, as your hands fidget and your breathing is heavy. You’re trying to stay calm.

“(Y/N), I need you to trust me.” He places his hands on your shoulders in an effort to ground you with the pressure. You close your eyes and nod, hesitantly. You do trust him.

Ed runs to the cold lockers and opens one, checking to see if it’s empty. He finds a dead body inside. You cringe. Seeing bodies is rare for you and you’re still getting used to it.

“Oh dear… okay… second times the charm…” He mumbles to himself trying to find an empty locker. “Bingo!” He smiles, finding an empty one. The wheels start to turn in your head.

“No! I’m not getting in there!” Your panic increases. Ed shushes you.

“This is our best chance. I promise I’ll let you out as soon as I can.”

“We won’t be together?” Your eyes start to burn. You try to keep back tears. You’re shaking.

“We won’t both fit in the same one. I’m gonna go in the one above you-“

“No no please I- I don’t wanna be by myself! Please don’t leave me!” You cut him off and beg him. Ed awkwardly rubs his thumbs across your shoulders where he places his hands again, still trying to ground you. It’s awkward, but it’s still somewhat calming.

“I’m not leaving you. I would never leave you. I’ll be right next to you the whole time. I promise. I need you to trust me.” You’re not sure if it’s because it’s life or death, or if it’s because it’s Ed, but you reluctantly let him help your shaking body into the mortuary cabinet. When it comes time to let go of his hand and close the cabinet, you don’t want to. Despite quickly running out of time, he knows he needs to be patient. He knows how hard this is for you. He’s always known you’re a bit claustrophobic. He had no idea one of your worst fears was being buried alive. Being stuck in a cold locker wasn’t too far from either of those things. He can hear footsteps far down the hall. The Maniax were never subtle. He kisses the hand he’s holding quickly before closing your locker and climbing into his own. You were surprised by the kiss, but you couldn’t think about that right now and what it could have meant. Your mind couldn’t keep up. He had to leave his own locker unlocked, unable to properly close it from the inside, but he locked yours to make it look more convincing.

When Ed heard you cry, he began to whisper, hoping he could be loud enough for you to hear, but quiet enough for the Maniax to not notice. “It’s okay, (Y/N). I’m still here.” It was enough to quiet your sobs. Tears silently streamed down your cheeks. Ed’s voice had a certain gentleness to it when he spoke to you. He was being especially gentle now. You had seen him angry, upset, anxious, energetic, but his calm voice was reserved for you. Even in this moment when he was admittedly not very calm, he was trying his best to mask his own fears to keep you safe.

You always reserved parts of yourself for each other; parts of yourselves that the other person enabled you to be. You were never as bold as you wanted to be, but when people were rude to Ed you stuck up for him. He brought out a more confident version of you. For Ed, he knew you struggled with staying calm when you were stressed, upset, anxious or scared, even when you were happy. All of your emotions were so big and you rarely knew how to contain them. He tried to stay calm because he knew you saw him as a calming person in your life. He liked being your hero when everyone else only saw him as a weak, odd, nuisance. He also liked that he could read you and that you were honest with him. He trusted you and it helped keep the voice in his head at bay. He didn’t have to question himself with you. He didn’t have to take advice from the voice in his head.

You tried to keep your meltdown as quiet as possible when you heard footsteps approach. They were heavy, not ones you recognized. You knew it had to be one of the Maniax, probably the cannibal. You tried to make your breath as quiet as possible. After what you assume was a poor sweep of the room, the man leaves.

After what seems like hours of being trapped in a corpse you finally hear sirens and then chatter. You hear Ed climb out of the locker above you. He opens your locker and you let out an audible sob.

“I think they’ve gone.” He says, pulling out the drawer to let your body get some much needed air. You start gasping and sobbing, shaking on the drawer of the mortuary cabinet. Your body jolts up. You just want to get away from the locker.

“You’re okay! You’re okay!” Ed catches your body, as your start to fall from the drawer to the floor. You sit on the floor and cling to him, sobbing. At first awkward, he runs his hand along your back, trying to sooth you with the repetitive motion.

“I felt like I was dead- like- like I was gonna get buried alive-“ You gasp for air, sobbing between your words. Ed shushes you.

“We’re okay. They’re gone.” He promises.

You hear fast approaching footsteps. Your brain is moving too fast to decide if the footsteps are familiar or not. You just bury yourself further into Ed’s chest.

“Detective Gordon is here.” He informs you and you relax only slightly.

“Nygma, are they okay?” Jim asks.

“No mortal wounds, they’re just a bit shaken up.” He lets him know.

“You two should probably still get checked out. I need to finish scanning the building for everyone else. So far we’ve got 9 cops dead in the bullpen and… and the commissioner is dead.” He says. It’s almost like you hear Jim, but you don’t. Your mind can’t keep up with anything that’s happening.

After a while you find yourself sitting, waiting for Lee to check you out. Ed had been pulled away for a few minutes to do his job. He didn’t want to leave you, but you assured him you were fine. You didn’t feel fine, but you knew they needed him. As long as you could see him on the other side of the bullpen, you were reluctant, but okay with him stepping away. He left his jacket draped around your shoulders. It helped to be surround by his smell and warmth.

When it was time to go home, Ed guided you to his car. You hadn’t spoken much, but at least you’d finally stopped crying. The car ride was quiet. The only thing that filled the air was Ed’s occasional hum with the radio. Neither of you quite knew what to say. It was a bit ironic considering usually nobody could ever get you two to shut up. You didn’t speak up until he turned onto your street.

“I don’t want to go home.” You said quietly, feeling the panic rise again at the thought of being alone at home again.

“That’s understandable. Would you like to stay at my place?” He asks. You nod, silently. He flicks his turn signal and starts the drive to his place.

“Welcome to Château Nygma.” He smiles, turning on the light. You still have his jacket wrapped around your shoulders. Despite the terror you’ve been through today, his smile is refreshing. You don’t question how he can stay so seemingly sane in times like these, but you’re just glad somebody is. You need that. Maybe you should have questioned it, but you didn’t. He has a nice apartment. It’s not too big. Why would it be for a man who lived by himself? It’s just the right size with cool windows and a comfortable setup.

“Do you want something to eat? I’m a good cook.” He smiles. You don’t know how he can continue to smile, but you’re glad. It starts to make you feel safer. It’s nice to be in a locked apartment with just you and Ed. It’s nice to be in a quiet, secluded place, but not feel alone. It’s far better than sitting on your bed, scared of any serial killers that could be hiding underneath the frame and jumping at any people you hear in the stairwell of your apartment, with an open case file sitting next to you, worried the killers you’re reading about could be onto you any second. Today was a very close call. Too close.

“If you’re not sure, that’s okay too.” He continues, noticing you’re deep in thought.

“Oh…uh yeah… I’m not sure what I want… It’s like my body needs things, but I’m just a little bit too overwhelmed to figure it out.” You look down, shyly.

“Do you want to just sit? I can put on some music?” He questions referencing the record player with his hands.

“That sounds okay. I think I can do that.” You nod. He puts on some quiet music, not too loud to overstimulate you and you make your way to the couch. He brings you a glass of water.

“I can imagine it might be hard for you to have an appetite given your increased levels of adrenaline today, but you should at least drink this.” You take the water from him and begin to sip it. You didn’t realize how nice cold water could feel. You drink it quickly, before setting the glass down.

“Thank you.”

Ed sits down and you gravitate towards him.

“How do you do it?” You ask.

“How do I do what?” He looks for clarification.

“Your job. There’s so much death everywhere.”

“I don’t know. I just sort of do. Honestly I think it’s fascinating…” He pauses, looking away from you. “Sorry. That probably sounds weird.”

“It does, but that’s okay. I like the fact that you’re different and you’re honest. It’s comforting. You’re a better man than all of those crooked cops walking around beating up women and mobsters alike.”

“You think so?” He asks.

“Yeah, I do.” You smile. This time it’s a real smile. Ed smiles too. It’s nice to know after everything he’s done for you to make you comfortable, you can say something to make him feel better.

“I’m sorry all of this has been so awful for you.” He says.

“I know we’re doing good and it’s important to do good in a world of so much bad, but sometimes I just wish nobody had to do it. I can’t even fathom what would make somebody what kill another person. Maybe out of necessity, but it scares me that people actually enjoy it.”

“Yeah.” Ed shifts uncomfortably. You think he must agree with you and that’s why he’s unconformable. You don’t know that he killed Officer Doherty for abusing Kristen just over a month ago.

The two of you talk for quite some time until you end up falling asleep next to him on the couch. He doesn’t mind when you fall into his lap. He lets you sleep, smiling down at you. He didn’t dare move. He didn’t want to wake you. He was afraid of breathing too deeply and shifting too much underneath you. He eventually falls asleep sitting up with you still in his lap.

Everything is peaceful until you shoot up screaming, in a cold sweat. You’ve had another nightmare. This time is different. You’re disoriented. You don’t know where you are. You feel hands touching you.

“(Y/N), it’s me! It’s Ed! You had another nightmare.” You look at his face to see him distraught, unsure of what to do. Your tossing and turning had woken him up. He was awake only seconds before you.

Your eyes begin to well with tears. “I just want it to stop. When will all of this stop?” You cry.

“When will what stop?” He asks.

“Everything! I just want to stop feeling like this. I want to stop being afraid. I should be used to the job by now.”

“Maybe you just need more time to get used to it! I know we talked about time management earlier. I can help you with your schedule.” He offers.

“I don’t want to manage my time. I just want it to freeze. I just wish time would freeze so I could just breathe and catch up!”

Ed looks at you defeated. He doesn’t know what to say. He likes riddles because riddles always have answers. He doesn’t know what to do when there’s a problem with no solution.

“I’m sorry.” He settles with saying. “Would a hug help?” He’s just grasping at anything he’s seen people do when trying to comfort other people with problems and no solutions.

“Yes.” You say quietly, burying your head in his chest. Despite being the one to offer the hug, he’s a little awkward at first. He eventually settles in.

“Is this helping?” He asks.

“Yes.” You tell him. Of course, Ed being who he is, even now he’s still looking for a solution. He doesn’t realize he may be the solution, or at least someone to help make the problem smaller. “You always help.” You add.

“I’m sure most of our coworkers would disagree.” He laughs.

“I never thanked you for earlier today.” You say quietly.

“It was nothing.” He smiles.

“No, Ed. Keeping me safe in a life or death situation isn’t nothing.”

“I’m sure anyone would have done it.” He argues.

“No, they wouldn’t have.” You tell him.

“I’ll always protect you.” He pulls you closer, shifting awkwardly underneath you. “You know… my apartment is always open if you want to sleep with me- I- I mean sleep with me in attendance- I- I mean sleep with each other- I- I mean near each other- you know! In case you have nightmares!”

“I might just have to take you up on that. This is the first night I’ve felt okay enough to be able to maybe go back to sleep afterwards.” You smile, trying not to laugh. You don’t want him to think you’re making fun of him. Truthfully you think he’s sweet and funny.

“You should go back to sleep and since I didn’t get to make you dinner I’ll be making you the best breakfast of your life tomorrow.” He beams.

“You better.” You snuggle into him. Ed is too awkward to suggest you go lay in his bed tonight and you’re too tired to care. You spend the rest of the night on the couch together. You can save the bed for tomorrow night. You know when you wake up in the morning you’ll be coming back. It was the most sleep you’ve gotten in weeks.

Ed wakes up before you and sneaks off the couch to start breakfast. He truthfully was a very good cook. His own sensory issues with food made him very particular about how it’s prepared. You wake up to the smell of something good in the oven. Ed is nowhere to be seen, but you hear him in the bathroom. He’s talking. You knew he often talked to himself, but he sounded like he was talking to someone else. Maybe he was on the phone. You were sure you were hearing one half of a conversation.

“I told you we could trust them. They like me for me. They think I’m a good man.”

163 notes · View notes

blues824 · 1 year ago

Note

Could I request octavinelle, Riddle, Kalim and Malleus x GN!Reader who's like Lizzie hearts

If you don't know how she is, she's a character from ever after high and she's the daughter of the queen of hearts

I used to be obsessed with Ever After High. Also, Lizzie is a hopeless romantic lol. It was written so that Reader is not Yuu, and is in Heartslabyul.

Riddle Rosehearts

He felt so honored to be in your presence, as you were the child of the Queen of Hearts herself. However, you were the exact opposite of what he expected. He expected you to be as strict as he was, and while you sort of were, you were a whole lot nicer and more lenient. You were actively trying to be kinder, and because of that the whole dorm loved you.

When you had asked if he would be your boyfriend, he was worried about what his mother would think. However, how could she say no when it was the child of the Queen of Hearts and also the heir who requested to court her son? Your relationship is actually super awkward in a very adorable way, if I’m being honest.

Riddle actually really loves your unique magic, where you can construct anything out of cards. And unlike a normal tower of cards, it’s structurally stable. You were able to help rebuild the dorm after your boyfriend’s overblot because of your power, and for free. Unfortunately, you had to regrow the roses manually. It was okay because when you got angry, Riddle explained that like your love, it takes a while for it to grow. That sentence alone made your heart flutter.

Azul Ashengrotto

Let’s be honest, everyone thinks it's an honor to be in your presence. But Azul tried to take advantage of you at first. You were smarter than that, since you were the heir and you needed to be aware of when someone was trying to manipulate you. The fact that you could cut something with your finger was definitely a factor in what got him to back off.

However, because of your desire to not rule like your mother did, you held out an olive branch and tried to get to know the person under the owner of a successful Lounge. Eventually, you both got romantically involved and into an official relationship. There were a few bumps, as the two of you were constantly kept busy, him with the Lounge and Octavinelle and you with preparing to inherit the Queendom. It felt as though you both were from and in different worlds, and you were.

Years later, Azul would say that your ability to build structures out of cards built a bridge between the two of you and you met in the middle. You both would call each other through FaceTime on your phones over breaks to really see each other, and over Spring Break in particular you had been excused by your mother to spend your time at NRC. So, you helped Azul at the Lounge so that you could see him a bit more.

Jade Leech

Even though you were a member of a royal family, he just loved to tease you so much. You should have expected this, to be honest. The way you mix up fabrics and such so that it matches the aesthetic of the Hearts family is something that he points out frequently. It goes against the norms he had gathered from other humans, but you fit right into the Heartslabyul dorm.

He offers a patience exercise, to say the least. As much as he loves teasing you, he knows when you have reached your boiling point. He also knew how hard you were working to prepare to inherit the Queendom of Roses, so he often helps you. You decided to get him back and say that he should start training as well to be King Consort, and this caused him to stop in his tracks and process what you just said.

Your unique magic is very fascinating to Jade, both in a personal and business perspective. You would be able to expand the Queendom on your own without help from the people, and your power could be used to expand the space of the Mostro Lounge for free. Of course, these are merely thoughts and he had no intention of acting upon them and trying to coerce you into a contract with Azul.

Floyd Leech

Riddle thanks you for becoming the tweel’s new obsession. He calls you ‘queenfish’, mainly because his nicknames are marine-life themed and you come from the royal family of the Queendom of Roses. Be prepared for a suffocating amount of affection because this man does not hold back.

If you thought Jade was a patience exercise, you have a whole other thing coming. This man knows what buttons to press, but not when to stop pressing them. Whenever you lose your temper, he smiles and thinks it’s all a joke until you use your unique magic to build a wall between the two of you for the entire day. Thus, he can’t see you, hold you, squeeze you, and this makes him irritable as well.

At the end of the day, he apologizes for annoying you and you, being the hopeless romantic that you are, caved in and let the cards fall away from the outside of Ramshackle. The first thing that the eel did was squeeze you and beg you to never do that again. After all, he can’t go 5 minutes without his beloved queenfish without making it someone else’s problem.

Kalim Al-Asim

He finds it super cool how you both had very similar upbringings. The two of you were destined to inherit something, him his father’s merchant company, you your mother’s queendom. But, only one of you was really concerned about it. The other was just trying to live life and have fun doing it. I will give you one chance to guess who is who in this situation.

When you voice your desire to try and be kinder, our lovely Kalim here takes it upon himself to teach you to be the kindest person you can be. Through the process, you both grew very close and even had your first kiss. Thus sealing your love for each other and putting you both in an official relationship.

Your unique magic really comes in handy when Scarabia needs to be reconstructed after Jamil’s overblot, and this kind of creates a treaty between both Heartslabyul and Scarabia. An act of good will put you on the good side of students from both dorms, which really helped you accomplish your goal of becoming a more respected and less feared person.

Malleus Draconia

You both have probably met each other before NRC, as you were members of royal families from different kingdoms/queendoms. There was an ongoing peace treaty between the Queendom of Roses and the Kingdom of Briar Valley. What struck him when you met for the first time was how you were not afraid of him. No, your brash attitude did not discriminate, and the memory of you demanding to know who he was and how your expression did not change after informing you of his identity made him laugh.

Then, you both were enrolled into NRC. You were sorted into Heartslabyul, and he into Diasomnia. Your friendship did not change, and when Yuu came around the three of you were great friends. It was during the same year where he invited you to go gargoyle watching but it was a huge plot to actually confess his love to you. He held out a blood-red rose to you, and you accepted it as you placed a kiss upon his cheek in return.

The only time he had seen your unique magic was when you were helping out Yuu by making Ramshackle a bit more structurally sound with your cards. He was there to also help, and Yuu and Grim got to experience the combined power of two heirs working together. This had Malleus thinking about how if the two of you got married, it could possibly solve the issue between faes and humans, as it would unite the Queendom of Roses and the Kingdom of Briar Valley.

501 notes · View notes

angelsdean · 6 months ago

Text

Also, since I'm divorce arc posting today, what if i said Dean wasn't wrong to say this:

CASTIEL The plan changed, Dean. Something went wrong. You know this. Something always goes wrong. DEAN Yeah, why does that something always seem to be you?

LIKE !!!!! Sure it was harsh and if emotions weren't heightened already and Dean wasn't still dealing with the very recent death of his mother and that grief (anger being a stage of grief!) and ALL the Chuck shit on top of that AND his own complicated feelings re: Jack's death (bc Dean was Not going to kill him, despite Chuck trying to manipulate him into doing that) he probably wouldn't have said that to Cas but like?? he's not really wrong.

You can easily trace a lot of the major season conflicts as a long line of dominoes starting with Cas's s6 betrayal. Leviathans. Purgatory. The tablets. Angels falling. Lucifer getting out of the cage via Cas possession. Etc etc. And most of the time Cas was doing things from a place of good intentions in his POV. Trying to fix things or spare others the burden of doing the hard thing. But still, these plans often backfire for Cas. Going it alone, not letting Dean (+ Sam) in on his plans, it usually does not end well !!!! They are TEAM Free Will for a reason. The show (and Dean) continuously emphasizes the importance of team and family and not going it alone. So, while what Dean says to Cas in this scene is definitely a harsh pill to swallow and not something I think Dean would say to Cas in normal circumstances, he technically isn't wrong. And that's what makes it such a heart-breaking scene.

And even more-so, he's saying this but he still, at his core doesn't want Cas to leave. ("Of course I wanted you to stay.") At the moment he needs space and time to process his grief re: Mary, and all the other stuff going on, but he still wants Cas there and ultimately wants to fix things. ("I'd rather have you." "We can fix this." "I was there where were you." etc etc)

But to fix things they need to address his huge persistent, recurring issue between them: not communicating effectively and Cas continuously leaving, going rogue, and/or deciding for them when to involve Dean.

Dean wants to work together, as a team. Dean wants to be involved. Dean wants Cas to not just up and disappear and "deal with things" on his own like he always does. Cas, in his own POV, sees his actions as perhaps a form of care. He's protecting! He's taking on the hardships! Also, his hubris, wanting to be the strong protector type. Wanting to be a warrior. Powerful. Securing "wins." And these desires stem from his years as a soldier of Heaven, of equating worth with Results. Not something Dean has put on him or required of him.

But Dean doesn't see Cas's actions the way Cas perceives them. We as the omniscient audience know more about Cas's motivations than Dean does too. Dean often just sees Cas leaving, prioritizing the mission and shutting Dean out. However, I do think it's important to note that Dean is also usually willing to give Cas the benefit of the doubt, defend him, and forgives easily / implicitly.

They both care deeply about each other and don't maliciously mean to press on each other's specific insecurities and traumas but like, Dean is abandonment issues boy. And Cas keeps leaving. Or ignoring his calls when their daily lives are a constant life or death battle because they are literally living in a horror show! Dean is not unreasonable to be worried when he doesn't hear from Cas for days, weeks, months on end. He's not being "clingy" or "demanding." Expecting some base form of communication from the people you care about is normal in any relationship. Cas refusing to communicate in these moments IS a problem between them.

So, when Dean says, "Yeah, why does that something always seem to be you?" re: Cas being the "problem" it's harsh yes! But it's pushing them toward addressing this recurring issue (Cas going rogue often = plans backfiring) and the root of that issue which is Cas continuing to leave to do things on his own, change the game-plan without running it by anyone, and keeping others out. This moment is a breaking point. Because Dean, under normal circumstances, is generally one to defend, forgive, and move past Cas's mistakes. Cas himself says it in this very scene: "You used to trust me, give me the benefit of the doubt."

But at this point something needs to give, they need an explosive moment to just bring all these issues to light. It's a rupture.

Yes, Dean might "still blame [Cas] for Mary" but Cas also knows deeply, as he expresses to Jack, that Dean needs time and space to process his emotions. That he feels things more acutely and intensely but that ultimately he usually comes to a place of acceptance / forgiveness / is able to move on.

That's what Dean wants and needs in this moment. He needs space to deal with his feelings and his grief (clearly in the anger stage of it). And he also wants to finally address these issues! But Cas is also struggling himself and in his own mind he's feeding old insecurities. He let Belphegor get under his skin. He thinks he's not needed or wanted anymore. So, he does what he tends to do. Leave.

CASTIEL Well, I don't think there's anything left to say. [Castiel makes to leave.] DEAN Where you going?

Cas decides to leave and Dean immediately asks where are you going? Because even now, feeling how he does, he doesn't want Cas to leave.

What Dean wants is to have a confrontation. He wants to get to the root of their issues. He asks Cas why didn't he just stick to the plan. And emphasizes the concept of WE, of being a team. "We would've figured it out....after. With Rowena." He wants them to stick together, work together. But he's struggling. He's grieving. And still, he wants Cas to stay, of course I wanted you to stay.

And I say it all here in this post but the whole "I left but you didn't stop me" is just, Cas really? From Dean's POV he sees Cas's leaving as a choice Cas makes. He respects his choice and doesn't ask him to stay because he also does not feel he deserves to ask people to stay for him. He is always putting his own wants and desires second to those of others. He thinks, if Cas wants to leave, who is he to stop him?

Anyways, I think too much of divorce arc puts blame on Dean or makes Dean out to be "the bad guy" and "the reason" Cas leaves and the one who needs to "grovel" and apologize / be forgiven. But Cas is not blameless. Cas leaves because Cas leaves. Cas leaves because he chooses to and because he does not want to confront the realities of the situation or his own role in their issues. And after Cas leaves he continues to bury his head in the sand and be avoidant (thee core issue!) while also going out and working a solo case in an effort to secure a "win" and prove to himself that he's still capable of getting things right and not always failing.

And all of this, the complexity, the layers, Cas's stubbornness and flaws, is deeply delicious to me. Cas is not a blameless innocent little baby who got his feelings hurt by "big meanie Dean" in this situation. He is someone who heard a hard truth from someone he cares about and made the choice to leave instead of confronting the issue. And throughout it all, they both still deeply care about each other. It's evident in everything they do. And they want to work it out, but are both at different places and struggling with their own feelings too.

#vic.txt #divorce arc #mymeta #abandonment issues #communication issues #of course i wanted you to stay #cas in the wind #dean and grief #spn 15x03 #s15

118 notes · View notes

watchmegetobsessed · 2 years ago

Text

SUBTLE

A/N: this idea got stuck on my mind and i thought i would just type it out so here we are!

WORD COUNT: 1k

SUMMARY: Harry's not so subtle way of hinting that he is in the mood.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

There are celebrities that never wear the same outfit twice. Some keep them tucked away in their closet, probably hoping one day they will be displayed in museums and some just simply get rid of them once the clothes are off of their bodies.

Well, your boyfriend is definitely not one of these people. He is the king of wearing something over and over again until it’s totally ruined and can’t be worn again. The best example is his crusty Vans he always wears to the maximum before even considering buying a new one. When Harry likes something, a shirt, a hat or a pair of pants, he is the biggest outfit repeater and that’s something you love so much about him, because it’s so mundane, so down-to-earth.

His most worn shirt however is a surprising one. Well, not to you, because he wears it because of you so whenever you spot him sporting it, you know what his intentions are.

It’s a quiet Sunday afternoon, it’s been raining all weekend so you’ve spent most of it snuggled up at home, watching movies, cooking and spending some well-deserved quality time together after such a busy week. For the past hour you’ve been glued to the couch with your favorite chunky blanket and a book that you haven’t gotten around to read during the weekdays. Your tea is set on the side table, an hour ago it was steaming hot, but now it’s more like room temperature and half of it is also gone. A pair of old sweatpants has been your uniform since yesterday and today you paired them with one of Harry’s many graphic shirts.

Speaking of your boyfriend, you haven’t seen him for a while now. Last time he mumbled something about having a riff stuck on his mind before he wandered off into his home studio. It’s been radio silence since then and you got to focus fully on your fantasy book.

Harry emerges from the studio after about one and a half hour that he spent strumming away on his guitar, recording a possible new hit song for his next album. Making music usually makes him feel two ways. First one, which happens more often is hungry. His creativity takes a lot of energy and he is a big boy, he needs food to fuel his body and brain as well. The second one however… that’s what causes him the most issues, especially when he is not recording at home and this is what he feels right now as well.

He’s horny.

The song he worked on was heavily inspired by you and the intimate moments he spent with you in the past months and reliving them definitely got him worked up, that’s why he had to put down his guitar and find a solution to his little situation.

But instead of just looking for you, he sneaks into his closet and grabs the shirt he’s been using with ulterior motives lately. He gets rid of his hoodie and then pulls the other shirt over his head before checking himself in the mirror, his eyes scanning over the “Sex” sign over his chest. He can’t help but smile at the sight of the shirt he wore on SNL, which was such an iconic appearance.

He wanders out of the closet and then the bedroom, looking for you with his teeth sunk into his bottom lip to hide his cheeky smirk. He finds you right where left you before his studio session, snuggled up on the couch with your book, your lips moving as you ready but it’s hard to notice. Your eyes are scanning over the lines, one hand holding the book, the other one playing with the necklace he got you for your birthday two years ago. You look adorable and cozy, but he’s also extremely eager to get under that blanket and between your legs.

Clearing his throat he walks closer, failing to pretend like he is just aimlessly wandering around. He peeks at you and narrows his eyes when he sees you haven’t even acknowledged his presence.

“Hey baby,” he speaks up, hoping to catch your attention.

“Mm, hi, what’s up?” you ask, but your eyes are still glued to the page in front of you.

“Not much. Just checking in on you.” Squaring his shoulders he takes a deep breath before exhaling dramatically, his palms smoothing over the shirt, especially the word written across his chest.

“I’m good. Did you finish recording?”

Still no peek at him and he is starting to get frustrated.

“Yeah,” he nods and clears his throat again, standing right in front of you at this point, towering over you.

“Good,” you hum.

You’re still ignoring him and now he is determined to have your pretty eyes on him. A series of coughs follows that finally forces you to look up from the book, mostly because you fear that he has a sore throat, judging from the coughs, but when you catch a glimpse of him you see how he’s puffing his chest so you see what shirt he is really wearing.

“Huh,” you smile, putting your book aside. “Are you trying to tell me something?” you ask, a smirk stretching across your face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he shrugs, running his tongue across his lips.

“Do you happen to want to have sex?” you tilt your head to the side.

“Oh! Now that you’re asking, yes. Yes, I absolutely do!”

You can’t hold your laugh back as he basically throws himself at you, his lips already kissing you all over your face as he wedges himself between you and the back of the couch.

“You’re so subtle,” you giggle against his lips, pulling the blanket over the both of you while his hands are already wandering under your shirt.

“That’s my middle name,” he grins. “Harry Subtle Styles.”

“What happened to Edward?”

“Gone. He’s dead,” he chuckles before his lips get busy with yours.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb

2K notes · View notes

polyamorousmood · 4 months ago

Note

Opinions on "one penis policies" and how to address and deconstruct them?

Oh lawdy.

So I am generally leery of one penis policies. They are both predisposed to and often arise from unhelpful beliefs, which means one penis policies in practice are often a little fucked up.

But❗ I don't think people asking for them are irredeemable assholes, and I think there may even be some ways to do it that are sensible.

Very long post, so

First, for this post from this point forward, OPP is short for "one penis policy"

For those who don't know OPPs are exactly what they sound like. The stereotype is that a cis bisexual woman in a committed relationship with a cis (straight) man will approach him about opening the relationship. He is sympathetic and wants to let her explore her bisexuality, so he allows her to see/fuck/date other women only, figuring that he should be enough to satisfy whatever she'd be interested in doing with men. But it should be noted that the inverse can also be true. This post, while talking about it in terms from this stereotype for simplicity, can apply to a variety of situations with the appropriate swaps of genitalia and pronouns.

Why I'm leery:

As with most things that get into sketchy😬 territory with polyamory (and nonmonogamy more broadly), OPPs almost exclusively arise from insecurity. And the thing about insecurity is that for most people, the more you concede to it, the worse those insecurities get, which can snowball later down the line. Having a rule the protects some of those insecurities can encourage people to neglect working on them through other means, and opens the door for the man to feel betrayed if it later becomes important for the woman to pursue another man for any reason.

In polyamory especially (as opposed to other forms of non-monogamy) where at least one goal is to fall in love, they're really restrictive for the woman -- how many gay women down with polyamory are there? That rarity means it may take years to find a suitable partner. And it puts a heavy burden on the woman not to catch feelings for any other men, which can be really hard and heartbreaking in the same way it can be really hard and heartbreaking to be stuck in a fully monogamous relationship as a poly person.

Its kinda sexist? Often, it arises from the belief that penis-in-vagina is Real Sex and anything the woman does with another woman can be therefore written off. Inversely, sex with another man might "taint her" in his mind more than another woman for the same reason. Here there's an intersection with the insecurities in that a lot of men seem to think their "dick game" is the most important thing to their partners (when most studies show things like foreplay are usually more important), so our example man fears the direct comparison of penis size 🍆 and other masculinity things that could never possibly come up with women (incorrect, but more on that later).

Or, the straight man here could be fetishistic about lesbians and thinks its hot his lady is fucking other women🥵, so that's why its fine.

There are particulars that are ambiguous, and these can often cause problems if encountered. How do trans people factor into this? What if our woman gets with a woman who prefers sex with a big strap? Is that fine cause its still a woman, or will the man still feel betrayed because its "basically a penis"? Does this not call into question the validity of the whole rule to begin with? These things are rarely considered ahead of time.

In short, they often are formed for shitty reasons and put an undue burden on the woman. The consent of it feels less than authentic on both sides -- if he were really okay with it, why would he restrict her and if she only wanted to date other women it wouldn't be a "rule" she had to maintain.

Why then, do I not denounce all OPPs?

Let's consider some examples of pure intentions that could result in an OPP. Or at least, not-fucked intentions like above.

I think its really natural to want to have something special between yourself and your partner. I don't think there's anything wrong with wanting there to be something only you can provide your partner. Its very common to have certain activities, acts, terms of endearment, etc. reserved for a particular partner in non-monogamous relationships! Why should "PiV sex" be treated with such hostility, but "watching our favorite TV show" be seen as a reasonable thing to disallow your partner from doing with someone else?

The man is trying to be supportive and flexible. He genuinely feels he can offer anything she might need sexually/romantically with a man, because polyamory is new to him, and because she's still offering him everything he needs sexually/romantically. The simplest explanation is that its the immutable fact of his gender that's causing the dissatisfaction, and he's very sympathetic to that! In this example, he's a little confused, but he's got the spirit. Non-monogamy is a big thing to most people, and allowing it -- even with restrictions -- should be recognized as the monumental step it generally is.

With that in mind, maybe our man even recognizes this is a big insecurity of his, and wants to work on it. Maybe he plans to address these insecurities, but knows this will take time, and is allowing her as much as he can without it being too much for him. Should he not be allowed some space to adjust, to work on those things? Should we not admire him for trying to broker a compromise🤝 rather than shutting down the woman's desires?

The woman might be okay with it.👍 She may feel she primarily wants to date/fuck other women, so a OPP is a small concession to make for her partner's comfort and reassurance.

There's kink things. I know I said lesbian fetishization was a negative just a moment ago, but even with that there are ways to do it respectfully. I'm not going to kink shame. If our theoretical couple finds it hot for him to put restrictions on what she can do sexually even when he's away -- who am I to stop them? Or any other number of kinks could play a part here! "I'm your only Daddy, but I'll let you go on playdates with other little girls" is not my kink, but I think it should be allowed for the people that are into it. 🤷‍♀️Idk, I admit this is probably my least well explained paragraph but basically it being a kink thing may be a sort of shortcut which circumvents some of the earlier concerns about authentic consent -- maybe they're just freaks who like it like that.

So then. About that question of deconstructing them.

Careful examinations of motives and feelings of all parties is required to know whether any one OPP holds up. There needs to be a lot of work put into the conversation, preferably before the relationship is actually opened. Its going to be personal between those two people, and -- like literally fucking everything with polyamory -- its going to require a lot of introspection🤔 and good communication🗣️.

If you find yourself in a OPP you feel is too constraining, you're gonna have to make a lot of time to talk through it. Be prepared to explain in detail and several times why its problem to you, while reassuring your partner its not because you find him unsatisfactory in some way. Be committed to hearing him out and taking his concerns and insecurities seriously. I recommend making a point to let everyone air their grievances before working on problem solving any of them. As always, avoid blaming.

Then, here are some ideas I think could you could try to help ease some of the insecurities and issues a OPP protects:

Shift the special thing to something other than PiV sex. Make it something else meaningful to you both. It could be some other sex thing😏, it could be the restaurant you went to on your first date🍽️, it could be listening to certain songs🎼, it could be ballroom dancing💃, it could simply be a day of the week 📅you only focus on each other, it could be anything you both value, and it could even be several things!

It may feel more reasonable to allow your partner other guidelines instead of gender. This can fall into many of the same pitfalls of a OPP, but it can also be a good middle ground if negotiations are tough. Maybe she can only date/fuck people shorter than he is, or with a smaller dick, or who makes less money than he does. Maybe she can see other men as long as they don't fuck in the bed he shares with her. Maybe any number of other things would help reassure him while being less burdensome on her.

Offer a lot of reassurance🤗. This is hard and scary! If he is willing to work with you, you better be working with him, too! Tell him you missed him and shit. Tell him how valuable he is to you because he allows you this freedom. Help him see things from a better framework when he's struggling. Do all this even when he doesn't ask for it.

It may help to give him something in return.🎁 Like, don't get me wrong, a very transactional relationship is rarely the most satisfying one. But a simple "I recognize how much work this will be for you, and to show you I also willing to put in work for your sake, I'm willing to try [something important to him]" isn't unreasonable. I think its easy and kinda fair for him to grow resentful if he's asked to accept everything she wants without her giving him anything he values.

If he's trying but still genuinely struggling, put a specific time-delay on when things will take effect. This allows him to prepare for it mentally (without it being something that will maybe happen some day, and thus not soemthing he needs to worry about right now). It gives him time to mull things over, so he can come to her with any concerns before they're already in the thick of it. The length of time will vary based on the situation, but I think something measured in weeks would probably be fair.

Seriously consider anything else he asks for that would make it easier for him.

Best of luck out there! Go live your best, most free lives babes!!

#polyamory #one penis policy #polyamorousmood original post #polyamorousmood opinion piece #ask box is always open #poly relationship advice

63 notes · View notes

drdemonprince · 9 months ago

Text

Keep Unnecessary Meetings to a Minimum

“Don’t attend unnecessary meetings,” advises Jersey, an Autistic activist in the San Francisco Bay Area.

Jersey has been on the front lines of numerous pro-Palestinian actions in the past several months, serving as a medic during the #BlocktheBoat action to delay the shipment of munitions to Israel, shutting down the Oakland Federal Building, and blocking the Bay Bridge, an action for which he was arrested and charged with false imprisonment (among other laughable charges) by the San Franciso District Attorney. Since the siege on Gaza began in October of last year, Jersey has been living and breathing for the Palestinian cause. Yet even he has limits.

“Tell [fellow organizers] that your capacity for meeting, especially in real life, is low,” he says. Instead of having to speak at length with organizers about your interest in getting involved, see if you can articulate your own role within the movement. That way, you won’t have to be “managed” as much.

“For example, if you’re a photographer, tell people that and then demonstrate that you can show up relatively independently, take great photos, and then show them with the group,” he says. Once you have proven yourself to be reliable and competent, you can skip meetings without facing as much criticism.

Many organizing spaces are oriented around neuro-conformist standards of what socializing and planning for an event must look like. Non-Autistic people generally process new information socially as part of an ongoing dialogue, whereas many Autistics prefer receiving all the relevant facts in a single, linear document they can read and process on their own. Many activists also enter a movement with intense emotional needs, and wish for others to bear witness to their suffering and share how they are feeling too. This means that those of us who find socializing and emotional processing to be draining will have to advocate for ourselves.

“We can remind organizations to be intentional about what does and does not have to be a meeting,” says Aeryn, another organizer. “Sometimes all you really need is an online survey, a memo, or a thread where people can ask questions online.”

If you can, tell meeting organizers that you are unavailable to meet often, but that you will listen to meeting recordings or read the agenda on your own time, and then communicate through email or private message to indicate that you have. Depending on how much you trust an organization and its leadership, you can either explain directly that you cannot process information in real-time easily because of your disability, or you can simply say you’re busy with school, work, or family obligations.

Operating independently may require being strategic in the roles you take on within an organization. Jersey says: “If you’ve never done security but want to do security, you will have to do a lot of training and meeting with people. But if you’re already a trained medic and have some type of credential… you can probably just tap into a medic chat and sign up for events as they arise.” This, in fact, is what he’s done.

Of course, it will be sometimes be necessary to get to know other members of your organization of choice, express your own perspectives to the group, and receive updates through some form of meeting. However, there are still many accommodations you can request to make those meetings more accessible:

Push for Accessible Meetings

When an activist movement is new or its resources are limited, its meetings may tend to be urgent, somewhat disorganized affairs, rife with lots of thinking out loud and amorphous brainstorming and possessing little in the way of an agenda.

Autistic people typically find it very hard to contribute to such meetings, because the flow of conversation is unpredictable and confusing, and most of us struggle with knowing when it’s appropriate to jump in and offer a comment. The constant flux in conversation topics is exhausting for us to keep up with, as are all the social and emotional undercurrents bubbling beneath what’s actually being said.

After the meeting is over, we may have almost no recollection of what was shared, because we were putting so much energy into masking and wearing our “listening faces.” Critiques and questions may occur to us hours after the discussion has ended, after we’ve had some time alone to digest and reflect. Even if we are physically present within a space, we are pervasively excluded when meetings are conducted in such an unstructured, overwhelming way.

Thankfully, all of this can be avoided. Here are some of the accommodations that organizing meetings should provide in order to maximize their accessibility — not just for the sake of Autistics, but for anyone who struggles to process verbal information quickly and form their own immediate verbal responses to it on the fly:

The full essay and toolkit of resources is free to read (or have narrated to you!) at drdevonprice.substack.com

87 notes · View notes

vallification · 5 months ago

Text

kento nanami / ☀️ cancer / 🌙 scorpio / 💫 capricorn

☀️ - sun in cancer makes nanami protective of others and himself, paternal, introverted, and grounded. before i knew nanami’s sun sign, i could just FEEL that he was a cancer. nanami is young, but he has an undeniable paternal warmth, characterized by his protectiveness of others and aura of stability. the subject of his protectiveness is usually a student, too, which just further drives my point. it’s a crucial part of nanami’s character. as a cancer sun, nanami is introverted, not unpersonable, which we see as he ages and matures. he would much rather keep to and work by himself, not only due to his introversion, but partly due to his “shell.” as a cancer, nanami is also protective of himself, which may come across as him being closed-off and impersonal. however, as nanami matures, he finds a nice balance between his caring nature and his sense of self-preservation: professionalism. these are all major parts of what makes nanami such a sensible, strong character in my opinion, and what makes him seem like such a gentleman. sun in cancer makes nanami a man you just know would take care of you.

however, sun in cancer is also known for its moodiness, sensitivity, tendency to withdraw, and manipulativeness. we see very little, if any, of these characteristics in nanami, other than the moodiness of his younger years and his generally stoic demeanor. all around, nanami’s cancer sun is well-balanced, which makes him the man he’s renowned for being.

🌙 - moon in scorpio makes nanami independent, courageous, intuitive, luxurious, alluring, and erotic. nanami is self-assured and wastes no time waiting for someone to tell him what to do. nanami is decisive and proactive, often taking initiative when something needs to be done rather than waiting for instructions. he has no issue putting himself between danger and people who need to be protected, no matter the risks. nanami exudes an air of luxury, displayed by his well-groomed appearance and his choice of clothes. nanami’s hair is always combed and neat, and his clothes are well-fitted and tailored to his body. nanami is extremely intuitive. in a way, nanami can predict how things will go before those things happen; this intuitive nature also includes an ability to read people very well.

moon in scorpio can also explain why nanami behaves the way he does, and why people are so attracted to him. the only person who knows nanami’s intentions and thoughts is himself, which makes nanami seem mysterious and alluring even though he behaves professionally at all times. scorpio moons exude eroticism even in the most mundane situations, often making them seem more sensual than they intend to be.

scorpio moons are drawn to the finer things in life, a lot like taurus moons are. this is potentially a weak spot for nanami in his personal life, because he may get caught up in excesses of pleasure.

💫 - nanami, to me, is a poster boy for capricorn rising. capricorn rising makes nanami disciplined, practical, responsible, mature, and defined. this placement is known for their seriousness, maturity, and money-mindedness. nanami works hard, but draws a hard line between work life and personal life. he’s definitely partly in the jujutsu field for the money, but his disciplined nature keeps him held to his principles and responsibilities as a jujutsu sorcerer. we can assume he’s paid well, as well as all sorcerers are, but nanami seems to exude a sense of wealth.

capricorn risings are also known for their appearance: strong bone structure, defined features, intense eyes, and an affinity for timeless, classic styles. nanami fits the bill perfectly.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk nanami #nanami kento #vallification

51 notes · View notes

hwnglx · 3 months ago

Note

how do karina and lee jaewook feel about each other/their relationship now? i feel so bad for all the hate they got :(

i always chose formats according to my intuition and how much they're allowing me tell, this is what they were comfortable with 🤍

how do they feel about each other? karina + jaewook

based on tarot. i do not know these idols personally. energies are always changing. what i say is NOT straight fact. pls take it with a grain of salt!

how does jaewook feel towards karina? 9osw, paow, 8ow&mo, know, paosw

he's very sorry. he dislikes how things ended, often finds himself wondering if he could've done better or what he could've done differently. a lot of self blaming. he might be finding it hard to contact her at this point in time, and there seems to still be a lot of frustration and leftover passion pent in up in him.

i can wholeheartedly say that this man liked and still likes karina a lot, and he seems like a very decent guy with good intentions. i often hesitate believing idols when they claim they split because of the public, but i do think this was mostly due to all the negative attention and gossiping. not only does jaewook think it's ridiculous that people have so many opinions on a matter that should be only private to them, but the fact that it actually had a true impact on their connection bothers him a lot. he believes it didn't have to end this way and still finds himself wondering how their relationship could've continued to play out. jaewook definitely still watches karina and is keeping a careful eye on her.

how does karina feel towards jaewook? 8osw, 6op, 4op, acop, 9ow

(she told me more about her feelings about the situation)

karina felt very powerless and helpless in the situation. she has very people-pleasing tendencies, in a way where she hates the thought of people experiencing any sort of harm because of her. i can say with full honesty, that she actually did care about what the public thinks and says, and wanted to do her best to make sure she doesn't lose her grip on the fanbase she's been able to build so far.

she wishes she could've satisfied both parties, but there's also a side of her thinking it was probably delusional of her to think both her relationship with jaewook and with her fans could've coexisted in harmony. in the end, her career had to come first. it just wasn't worth to keep going, she didn't feel comfortable continuing with the risk of putting the career she's worked on developing for many years in jeopardy, just because of her personal life. she just isn't gonna be doing that for a man. he for sure was more emotionally attached, and liked her more.

i can say, that this situation has definitely made her put her guard up, and be much more careful about the things she choses to disclose to the public. she's very sweet and truly cares about her fanbase (tbh, one of the few idols i felt genuine love for their fans from) but she realized they can be kinda reckless and selfish in many ways.

#kpop tarot #aespa tarot #karina queen

40 notes · View notes

honeyedmiller · 8 months ago

Text

Law of Attraction — Epilogue

series masterlist | previous chapter

rating: 18+, minors dni

word count: 2.7k

warnings: no outbreak au, professor!joel, plus size!reader, responsible alcohol consumption, a reunion, confessions of feelings (lots and lots of feelings), no use of y/n.

epilogue synopsis: a year later, you find yourself attending another criminal justice exposition, but everything’s different this time around.

a/n: this is it! thank you all so much for sticking with me through this lil series, even though the updates were super sporadic. thank you for giving my take on professor miller the love you did. i appreciate every single one of you. love u all. xoxo

divider by @saradika-graphics <3

You almost laughed when Margot told you where the upcoming criminal justice expo was being held this year.

The same exact hotel as last year, because apparently, attendance was at an all-time high and it got phenomenal feedback. This time, you were going because the forensics department you were in was invited as a whole unit, with Margot chosen to give a speech to represent the department.

You’d grown close with Margot the year that you’ve been back in California. Your job was amazing, you worked with a great team, and you were truly, genuinely happy for the first time in so long.

So much has changed within the year. You felt like you’d done a lot of growing as a person, figuring out who you are all while living your best life.

Joel had decided that he’d keep his distance for you, because you deserved to live your life and heal and not worry about him all the way back in Texas. You protested at first, but then steadily came to the realization that it truly was for the best.

That’s all he wanted for you—the best—and he couldn’t give that to you if he was just going to hold you back. Plus, a long distance thing would’ve just been too much for the both of you.

Distancing himself was for the best.

Doesn’t mean you didn’t miss him like hell. He’d texted you from time-to-time to see how the new job was, how you were settling into your apartment with Adrienne, how living in California was again. He cared, alot. More than he’d probably admit.

As the new semester started for Joel, the texts dwindled down into nothingness. It wasn’t intentional. You both were just busy, occupied people who had jobs to do.

Still doesn’t mean you didn’t think about him often.

You’d wonder what shirt he’d be wearing on a random Wednesday, if he drank one cup or two cups of coffee on a particularly grueling day, what music he’d listen to on his way to work.

You knew it would be best if you could just stop thinking about him in general, but it was hard. The man had a big impact on your life, even though things were more than okay between you two now. You just couldn’t shake him.

You had some pretty decent distractions, but at the end of the day it was just him. Joel, Joel, Joel.

Margot went over how the presentation was going to go at the expo, and luckily you didn’t need to do much talking. Or anything at all, really. Just smile and wave as you’re introduced, as Margot had put it.

The setup was exactly as you’d remembered it—a huge room with tables that showcased different areas of expertise in criminal justice, and a stage at the very front of the room with an open bar in the back.

A small, fond smile curls on your lips as you recall wearing that sophisticatedly sexy black number and Joel’s eyes as he ogled over you.

You were wearing a pale pink blouse this time with gray slacks and black heels. You couldn’t deny yourself of the proud feeling tugging in your tummy. A year ago, you wanted to be a pro. Now you are.

“Okay team,” Margot started, and all of you gave her your undivided attention. “Put these lanyards on. There’s forensics teams from all over Southern California today, so let’s represent Los Angeles and be on our best behavior.”

You laughed softly at Margot’s motherly side shining through. Your lanyard had the words Los Angeles PD Forensics Department with your name written below it, and Forensic Analyst below your name on a laminated card that was clipped at the bottom.

“Feels like a badge of honor bestowed on us.” Your coworker Brandon joked.

“Kinda does, huh?” You laugh along with him. Brandon started the same time you did, so you luckily weren’t thrown into the workforce alone. He’d become someone near and dear to you over the course of the past year.

Margot led you all toward your seats in front of the stage. More people filed into the room, experts from every which way coming up to introduce themselves. Chatter died down once everyone was settled and the speeches began. Each department head from different counties—Orange, Riverside, San Diego, San Bernardino—all gave their speeches and introduced their teams. Margot was last to go, thanking everyone for being able to make it out to the expo. She introduced you one-by-one, sporting shy smiles and humble waves to the crowd.

There had to be easily more than three hundred people in that room. Even waving hello was nerve wracking, so when Margot thanked everyone once more and wished them a good time, you were relieved when parties started to disperse into their respectable groups.

“Let’s get a drink. I have a feeling it’s gonna be a long night.” Brandon nudged you, and you happily obliged. You considered ordering a Mai Tai, a smile curling onto the corner of your lips at the thought. You opted for a single glass of Disarrono on the rocks.

You sipped generously on your drink as Brandon was in full swing of conversation with your other coworker, not paying much mind to what he was saying.

Your mind clouded with thoughts of last time. The way Joel looked at you, the way you felt under his burning gaze, the carnal need for him that settled into your bones, the things you did with him just fifteen floors above this one. A devastating wave of need and nostalgia washed over you in that moment.

”Helloooo?” Brandon waved his hand in front of your face, and you looked at him with threaded eyebrows. “Where are you, babe?” He asks, and you smile softly.

”I’m sorry. Just deep in thought, I guess.” You laugh it off, internally rolling your eyes at yourself.

Get. It. Together.

”Wanna talk about it?” He asks, resting a hand on your shoulder. You shake your head and sip your drink. The last thing you want to do is wallow in self pity.

“Well if you want to get your mind off of things, Mr. Hunk over there has been making eyes at you for some time now.” Brandon juts his chin over your shoulder with subtlety. You furrow your brows, turning around to lock eyes with a deep, familiar, warm gaze.

You freeze in place, not really believing your eyes at the moment. It felt like your mind was playing tricks on you, mainly because being here had memories of him and the little bits of bliss you indulged in together.

Your feet seemed to have a mind of their own as you made your way to him, meeting him halfway before stopping before his broad frame.

“Joel?” Your voice is nearly a whisper, impossible to hear over the loud chatter in the room. A small smile curls onto his lips as he looks at you with sincerity.

“Hi sweetheart.”

He looks a bit different. His hair is longer, the graying brown locks hanging over his forehead in soft curls that frame his handsome face. His matching stubble is a bit longer, probably from lack of shaving over the last few days. You spot the heart shaped patch amidst the gray, though, and you want to kiss it. You want to kiss him.

“What are you—” You start, but he shakes his head.

“They invited me back because I actually got a new job. ‘M gonna be a criminal law professor at UCLA starting this summer.” He says, and your eyebrows pinch together.

“Wait, so you’re moving to LA?” You ask, struggling to comprehend the news he just dropped on you.

He nods, a sheepish smile on his lips as he tries to gauge your reaction.

“That’s amazing, Joel, congrats on the job.” You grin up at him, trying to mask your excitement.

You didn’t exactly know where you stood with him, since so much had changed since the last time you physically saw him in person.

“Thank you.” His voice was soft amongst the chaos of others. You had so much you wanted to say, but the words just seemed to die on your tongue every time you opened and closed your mouth to speak.

“Wanna go talk somewhere more private?” He’s leaning toward your ear now so you can hear him better. He leans back and looks at you, a flash of uncertainty crossing his gaze. He was probably just as nervous as you were.

You nod at him and hold up a finger as you step back to your group, telling Brandon you were going to step out real quick. His eyes flickered between you and Joel, giving you an impressed nod.

You almost wanted to laugh, given that he had no clue about the history between you and Joel.

Margot didn’t have anything planned for the team until tomorrow, so it was a free-for-all kinda night. You downed the last of your drink for that quick spike of liquid courage, setting your glass onto the bar top before you were by Joel’s side again. He led you out of the expo with a hand on your lower back, not caring who saw anymore.

He didn’t want to hide anything anymore. He was ready to lay all of his cards down on the table, hoping you’d be willing to hear him out.

“I have a room here for the weekend—would you be comfortable talking in there? If not, we can—” Joel starts nervously, but you reach up and give his bicep a small squeeze of reassurance as you wait by the elevator.

“That’s fine Joel.” You smile at him, and you can see his shoulders visibly relax as he nods. The elevator dings, and you both step inside. You nearly want to laugh, hard, at how he pressed the ‘15’ button.

Total déjà vu settles into your bones, recalling the insane sexual tension between the two of you the last time you rode this elevator up to the fifteenth floor. You look at your reflections staring back at you, and you don't see desperate and needy in your gazes. You saw steadiness and growth.

He looks at you and gives you a small smile, a flash of I remember too, before the elevator comes to a full stop and opens its doors. He leads you to his room and unlocks the door, tossing the key card onto the entry table as you both shuffle into the room.

You didn’t know what to expect. You didn’t know if he wanted to just talk, wanted to talk and do more, or just do more.

“So,” He starts, scratching the back of his neck. “Wanna talk on the balcony?” He nods his head toward the spacious balcony with two seats and a small table outside.

Relief floods your body in an instant, grateful he only wants to talk. You grin at him and head toward the balcony, sliding the glass door open before stepping out into the California warmth. You take a seat across him him, heart racing in anticipation as your gaze meets his.

“First off, I wanna start by saying I’ve been doin’ a lot of reflecting this past year. Should’ve never put you through that situation darlin’, n’ for that I’m sorry.”

“I think it’s safe to say we’ve both moved past that part.” You try to keep your tone lighthearted, but Joel shakes his head.

“‘M sorry for what I did to ya. You’re a beautiful, smart, amazing woman n’ I took advantage of the situation. It was fucked up. Tess gave me an earful, believe me.” His smile is sad as he looks down at his hands folded in his lap.

“Why did you?” You meekly ask.

“I was scared of gettin’ hurt again. My ex fiancée wasn’t a good person. She cheated on me multiple times n’ gaslit me into thinking I was goin’ crazy, even if there were major red flags about her and her behavior. Didn’t see through any of the bullshit though, and I feel like I projected my bottled up hurt into what was going on between us. I can’t tell ya how sorry I am.”

“Why did you get so upset with me when I reminded you that I’m not her? I would never do such a thing to you.”

“I realize that now, baby. I guess I just got so upset that what she did was being thrown in my face, and it set me off. Listen,” He sighs, rubbing the crook of his nose between his forefinger and thumb, “I should’ve never let things get the way they did. Should’ve never proposed that stupid fuckin’ idea in the first place. I know it’s been a year n’ all, but I still want you, baby. I wanna be with you, show you off, and love you out loud like y’should’ve been all along.”

You still at his words. Love?

“Love?” Your voice echoes your thoughts in a whisper, staring at him doe-eyed and shocked.

“Yeah, baby. Love. Finally not a fuckin’ coward and can admit it. There’s no other woman like you. I wanna be with you, if you’ll have me.” The hopeful look in his eyes makes you want to cry.

“I don’t want to get hurt again, Joel.” The thought of getting your heart broken again was something you knew you couldn’t bear. The circumstances may be different this time around, but you’ve worked on yourself so much and—

He grabs your hands in his, bringing them up to his mouth so he can kiss your knuckles.

“I know. And I can promise you, from the depths of my very bein’, I’ll do everythin’ in my power to make you believe when I say I would never, ever hurt you again. It hurt me to see you like that, sweetheart. N’ knowin’ I did that? Absolutely fuckin’ killed me.”

“I forgive you, Joel. I’m–I’m willing to give this a go, but please, for the love of god, take care of my heart.”

“I promise, sweetheart.”

Joel kept that very promise. A year later and your relationship with him was stronger than ever. He showed you off unashamedly. Truthfully, you were worried at first about what people would think about the age difference between you two, but no one really bats an eye at that stuff in Los Angeles like they would back in Austin.

You got to experience the beautiful side of being loved by Joel Miller—soft, kind, attentive, insatiable. He was a man who was a jack of all trades when it came to being in a relationship, and you couldn’t have been happier with the leap of faith you chose to take a year ago.

He’s reminded you every day how beautiful you are, has loved on you and cherished you every day, and if you’d let him, would quite literally praise the ground you walked on.

He was all about you and he made you feel like the luckiest, sexiest woman alive.

You wish everyone could experience a love like this.

There were many bumps in the road, but it took all of that to get you to where you are now: incandescently happy and in love.

You look over at the gorgeous brown-eyed man who was tracing circles over your shins that were thrown over his lap, burying himself in papers he was grading—the very same paper he first helped you on that started this whole thing.

A soft smile spreads on your lips as you watch him intently, enjoying this little full-circle moment to yourself.

He furrows his brows, and with a slight pout to his lips, pushes his glasses up his nose before looking up to lock his gaze with yours. He gives you one of those soft smiles that makes your heart melt continuously. He squeezes your shin in reassurance, always needing to be touching you in one way or another.

He couldn’t get enough of you.

“I love you, sweetheart.” The words slip easily past his lips, and you lean forward to give him a chaste kiss.

It might’ve been a force of pure attraction at first, but your heart formed around him.

He was yours, and you, his. This is how it was always meant to be, you think.

“I love you too, Joel.”

And you really do.

You always will.

tags: @ilovepedro ; @punkshort ; @nostalxgic ; @cool-iguana ; @pamasaur ; @untamedheart81 ; @harriedandharassed ; @endlessthxxghts

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller series #fic: law of attraction #joel miller x plus size reader #professor!joel miller #professor!joel #professor miller #pedro pascal characters #joel miller imagine #joel miller au #joel miller imagines

116 notes · View notes